Will You Ever Know?
by MagicInHerMadness
Summary: AU. Fitz and Olivia are best friends. Fitz is in love with Olivia, but she doesn't know. Told from Fitz's POV
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This occurred to me while I was working on an update for Goodnight. I've got a little writer's block going with that story but I'm hoping my muse will show up out of nowhere and surprise me with some inspiration. Anyway, please enjoy this and review. I would love to know what you guys think! XOXO**

**A/N (2): I made Olivia, Fitz, and Cyrus around the same age for the purpose of logic. They're all 25-ish**

Her laugh got me every time. Every day I would wake up and tell myself I was finally going to get over her once and for all. Then I would see her and make one of my stupid jokes, and she would laugh, and all the willpower I had mustered would be lose instantly. It is said that to make someone fall in love with you, you had to make them laugh, but every time she laughed, it was me who fell in love.

She had been my friend since our first day of freshman year in college, and I had been in love with her since the moment I walked into our English 101 class and found her fortuitously seated next to the only available seat. She had smiled politely when I sat down, chirping a beautifully sweet hello. My tongue lost every syllable I had ever learned. I just smiled like an idiot. She grinned back, asked if I was okay when I didn't look away. I realized I was crimson from my neck to my hairline. I forced myself to tell her I was fine, realizing too late that finding my tongue was a mistake. I went on to babble, "_I'm not usually this weird, I swear. This is just random awkwardness. Not you! You're not awkward. I'm awkward. You're…gorgeous."_ I heard myself rambling like a buffoon, blushed even harder, and announced, _"I'm gonna be quiet now."_ She blinked at me and I knew it would be the last time that we talked, that on Wednesday when I came back to that classroom, she would be sitting somewhere else, avoiding eye contact with me like I was a leper. Then she laughed, her head falling back as her eyes closed, beautifully luminous as her curls shook on her shoulders—and I was stuck forever. _You're cute_, she declared. Karma granted me one smooth moment, and I said, _"Actually it's Fitz, but you can call me cute if you want."_ She laughed again then said the most beautiful four syllables ever uttered: _Olivia._

That was seven years ago. Now I'm an English professor at Georgetown and she still takes my breath away without trying. When she's not doing that, she's running her own pastry shop. Around campus, I'm the kind-of quiet Lit professor who turns out to be surprisingly hilarious when you get him talking. Around her, I'm that tongue-tied freshman again. It wasn't that she was too beautiful, or too smart, or too independent. It was that she was more than a woman—more than a person, really. She was a deep, deep well that you fell into and never escaped.

"_Date with Edison tonight! Wish me luck!"_ I stared at the text from her for five minutes before I could reply, _"You don't need luck lol"_. I sighed as I walked to the bus stop from my office. My best friend Cyrus appeared by my side as if from nowhere.

"We're going out," he announced, grabbing my arm and turning me around to head to the faculty parking lot. We got into his black BMW and he drove to the Village, singing along cheerfully to Queen.

"I'm not going to a gay bar," I sighed as I leaned against the window.

He laughed. "Me either. I met someone."

"Oh?" Cyrus had only dated one guy since he'd come out freshman year, and when that ended our junior year, he had stopped dating. He spent senior year and all of grad school resigned to bar hookups.

"Yeah. James Novak. He's a reported for the _Chelsea Sun_. He wants to do nightly news. We're going on our first date Thursday night." I hadn't seen or hear him so excited in years.

I nudged him with my elbow. "Good for you, Cy."

"Now we're gonna find you someone," he declared as he pulled into the parking lot of a bar called Hair of the Dog.

"I'd rather we didn't," I grumbled as we got out of the car.

"Well that's too bad, isn't it?" The place was packed with businessmen and typical downtown D.C. women: thin, hungry girls with cell phones attached like extra appendages. Cy and I sat at the bar.

"Scotch neat," I ordered. I was normally a beer man but the thought of Olivia on a date with someone else called for something a little stronger.

"Cosmo for me," Cy announced. I smirked at him. He had always been a whiskey enthusiast. Apparently James had changed that.

"Indulging in your flamboyant side tonight, Cy?"

He laughed as he drank the cherry red concoction. "It's about time I did."

We sat for two hours, knocking back drinks and laughing. I almost forgot about Olivia and _Edison._

"Someone's giving you the eye," he whispered loudly, his fourth Cosmo sloshing around, his face beet red. He could drink whiskey from the bottle and give three lectures on the Civil War. A few Cosmos and he was paying the DJ to play Cher's greatest hits back to back. I followed his bleary gaze to a brunette eyeing me over her wine glass. She was pretty: tan skin, hazel eyes, a cute smile. But she wasn't Olivia, not even close. I gave her a half smile then looked back at Cy. He immediately knew what I was thinking. "Don't do that. I love Liv, believe me. I want you two together, I do. But you can't pine away for her forever. Who knows? That girl might be just what the doctor ordered."

He was right. I finished my drink then went to get acquainted with the blue eyes that wouldn't stop staring. She chirped a jovial, "Hi!"

"Hi," I replied, my voice mirthless.

"You look like you just lost your best friend," she observed.

I sighed. "I didn't lose her. I just…love her and…she doesn't love me back."

It was the first time I had ever said admitted that I loved her to anyone other than Cy, and the first time I had ever acknowledged aloud that she didn't love me back to anyone.

"Who wouldn't love eyes like yours?" I looked at her. She grinned flirtatiously. The bartender brought over drinks, courtesy of Cy, who was dancing with a group of what appeared to be soccer moms out for a night on the town.

"The one person I want to love them, apparently." I gave a bitter laugh.

"Well we've just got to cheer you up!" she announced before downing her wine and ordering a bottle of champagne. She gave a toothy grin as she extended her hand. "I'm Quinn, Quinn Perkins."

"Nice to meet you Quinn. I'm Fitz Grant," I replied, shaking her hand. The bartender poured Quinn and me into a cab two hours later. Cyrus left with the soccer moms to hit another bar. She was a giggling mess. I was only slightly buoyed. We made it to my apartment, making out in the elevator. She smelled like vanilla. Olivia always smelled like Amazing Grace perfume. In my bedroom, she excused herself to the bathroom to freshen up. I kicked off my shoes, took off my shirt, and sat on the bed. A picture of Olivia and me, taken at the beach during our senior year Spring Break, sat on the dresser, staring at me. She was on my back—tipsy, tan, and gorgeous—grinning from under the brim of her floppy sunhat. I sighed as I got up to turn it down.

Quinn emerged from the bathroom, smiling as she stood before me in her silky silver bra and panties. Touching her was different from what I imagined touching Olivia would be like. Quinn was acquiescent, pliable to whatever I wanted. I imagined Olivia would be electric and independent. I was surprised when she sat up next to me after we had sex, placing a hand on my forearm.

"This was fun, but I don't expect you to call, Fitz," she said.

I was legitimately surprised. I was also still drunk. She seemed to have sobered up enough to notice I wasn't thinking of her. The elation of the champagne had faded away. I was back in the trenches of my Scotch. I said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you here. It was just…nice…to not have to think about her for a while."

I was surprised when she asked, "What's she like?"

"Her name is Olivia. We've been friends for seven years. She's not…pretty."

"Really? With the stars in your eyes, I'd think she was a total babe." She gave a small chuckle.

"No…," I replied, smiling a little. "You're a total babe. She's this…deep, deep well you fall into."

I sighed. She asked, "How could she not love you when you sound like _that_ every time you talk about her?"

"She doesn't know. In seven years, I've never been able to tell her…" She squeezed my shoulder as she got out of bed. She dressed quietly then sat next to me as she put on her shoes. She took my hand and kissed the back of it, a strangely intimate gesture for a relative stranger.

"You should tell her," she said. She stood and smiled at me as she picked up her purse off the floor near my bedroom door. "But you can call me any time you're tired of being in the 'deep, deep well.'"

I got up and followed her to the door. I opened it and we came face to face with Olivia, her hand poised to knock. I wondered how long she'd been home, if she could hear Quinn and me from her apartment across the hall.

She smiled at Quinn as she extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Olivia."

"Quinn; nice to meet you," Quinn replied, smiling back as they shook hands.

Olivia looked at me. "I couldn't sleep and I was just coming over to see if you wanted to watch a movie or something?"

"Uh…sure," I quickly said. "Maybe order some Chinese?"

"Great! I'll just go get my phone." She disappeared into her apartment. Quinn turned to look at me.

"God, look at your face!" She gave a wide-eyed laugh. "I gave you an _orgasm_ and you didn't even look at me like that. She's the one, isn't she?"

I sighed. "That's what my heart is saying."

She kissed me lightly on the lips. "Don't give up until you get her."

Olivia emerged from her apartment just as we were hugging goodbye. They smiled at each other as Quinn headed for the elevator, her phone to her ear as she ordered a cab. I hadn't even thought to call her one. Liv smiled as she plopped on the couch. I breathed in the scent of fabric softener on her black Starbucks COFFEE SNOB sweatshirt.

"So spill about Quinn," she said as she turned on the TV. I got up to grab a couple of beers for us from the refrigerator.

"Not much to tell," I replied.

"'Not much to tell' because you don't want to kiss and tell and jinx it, or 'not much to tell' because you don't know anything to tell yet?" she asked, smirking at me as I sat back down. I used a bottle opener to take the top off her beer then my own.

"Her name is Quinn…as you know. I met her at this bar called Hair of the Dog. She's a paralegal. She likes white wine. We had fun," I answered.

She nodded as she flipped through channels. "Are you gonna see her again?"

"I don't know," I answered. I remembered that she had been on a date. "So how was your date?"

"Okay, I guess. He's a stock broker. He drinks whiskey sours. He likes jazz. He kissed me goodnight…on the cheek. It was nice," she replied. She stopped on the Turner Classic Movie channel, exclaiming, "_The Way We Were_! I love this movie!"

I smiled at her excitement. We had watched the movie dozens of times over the years, but she still cried every time, and I always held her even though I didn't get what was so sad about the movie. I asked, "So are you gonna see him again?"

"I don't know," she answered. I hoped she didn't. "He doesn't give me that crazy, butterflies-on-cocaine feeling in my stomach."

_Like you give me_, I thought as the movie started. I joked, "Well love without drug-addled insects is hardly love at all."

She laughed, cuddling against me as the movie started. _There's that sound again_, I thought as I wrapped my arm around her. I planted a feather soft kiss on the crown of her head, breathing in the pomegranate scent of her hair. It would have been the perfect moment to whisper _I love you_, but I didn't. It wouldn't have seemed genuine after seeing me with Quinn, and I wanted everything to be perfect when I finally mustered the courage to say it. _If_ I ever mustered the courage to say it. Until then, I resigned myself to swimming in a deep, deep well.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! This chapter happens about four months after the first one. Enjoy and review please XOXO**

It became a pattern. Olivia would go on a date with Edison and I would go out with Quinn soon after, the same night if I could manage. A movie, dinner, a dive bar, an arcade—anywhere that didn't make me think of Olivia. Quinn proved to be a surprisingly effective distraction. It wasn't healthy, over the right thing to do—it was really shitty, actually—but it was the best coping mechanism I had.

The thing I liked most about Quinn turned out to be the things that she wasn't. She wasn't Olivia. She wasn't anything like Olivia. She was almost her polar opposite. She had an easy, bubbly laugh, like a child. Olivia's laugh was lightning in a bottle, magnificent and rare and unforgettable. Quinn loved college basketball; Olivia was a college football fan. Quinn always agreed to disagree. Olivia never stopped until she proved her point. Quinn made me comfortably numb, almost happy sometimes. Olivia made me feel alive.

For a few months, we had an amazing time. Quinn brought me lunch at work and made me dinner at her apartment. She always wanted to take pictures and soon my Instagram feed was full of our smiling faces at carnivals and college baseball games and faculty mixers. I even started introducing her as my girlfriend. But beneath all the fluffy feelings and sweet words, my heart was missing. I liked her but she wasn't the one and she knew it. She told me to take everything as slowly as I needed, but her she grew restless with my lack of progress around the end of our third month together. Her smiles became smirks and she became more sarcastic than understanding when something brought Liv to mind—or worse, we saw her and Edison—and I lost all my mirth.

The last time we had sex, she was somewhere else. I was somewhere else too, but it was different when we both gone. It was empty and quiet and over much sooner than usual. When we were finished, she sat up and turned her back on me.

"Fitz…" she began.

"I know," I replied with a sigh. I turned to look at her. "I'm sorry. Honestly, I am. I should never have even gotten involved with you. It was a mistake, a selfish mistake."

"I knew I wasn't your first choice but…I figured time would fix everything." She was quiet while she got dressed. I was reminded of our first night together when she sat on the bed to put her shoes on. She looked at me, her hand on top of mine. "It's been 7 years, Fitz. You aren't gonna get over her. You should say something."

"I can't now. She's with him," I muttered. Olivia and Edison had been dating for four months—two weeks longer than Quinn and me—and they seemed to be having more luck than we were. I had taken the elevator with him more than once on my way to work, each time a little less awkward but a little more painful.

"People break up." She snorted. "We just did."

I gave a mirthless laugh. "What would a girl like her want with someone who can't even tell her they love her after 7 years?"

"Even the greatest heroes have flaws," she pointed out. "And what _wouldn't_ any girl want with a guy like you? You're a prime catch and you don't even know it."

I smiled. She got up and went to pick up her purse off the chair next to the dresser. She stopped and picked up the picture of Olivia and me. She chuckled. "You even smile differently with her."

We made eye contact as she stood in the doorway. Everything was understood in that moment. We had both entered the relationship wanting something the other couldn't give.

"Goodbye, Fitz." I sat in the same spot for a long time after she left. I had given up a perfectly good girl for someone who didn't love me back. But I didn't even know that to be true. I didn't know what Olivia felt for me because I could never tell her what I felt for her. It was three little words, three syllables, eight letters…and I couldn't make my mouth say them.

When I finally got up, I got into the shower and stood under the water for what seemed like hours. When I got out, it was almost 3AM. I wondered if Liv was awake, or if Edison was there. I pulled on plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt then trudged across the hall. I knocked on the door gently so I didn't scare her. I frowned when Edison opened the door, squinting at me with sleepy eyes.

"Hey man; what's up?" he greeted in a groggy voice.

"Is Liv awake?" I asked. He was a nice enough guy but he was the last person I wanted to talk to at the moment. I hadn't been particularly upset when Quinn left but now I felt like everything was weighing on me. I guessed that it was Edison opening the door. Knowing that he had been in her bed, that he had been holding her, that he had made love to her, made me nauseas.

"I'll go get her," he replied, leaving me at the door. I walked in and sat on her couch then lay down. I wasn't sleepy, just tired. My body ached like someone had dropped the world on my shoulders without telling me. A photo of Liv and me, dressed as Johnny and Baby from _Dirty Dancing_, sat on the coffee table. I looked away from it, frowning.

"Fitz?" I sat up at the sound of her voice. She was wearing blue sweatpants, GU LACROSSE emblazoned on the leg, and a maroon tank top. I recognized the pants as mine. Edison stood in the doorway between the living room and her bedroom, looking at me look at her. He knew. He had to be blind or a complete moron not to know.

"Quinn's gone," I said. She sat on the couch next to me, holding out her arms for me. I lay my head on her lap, sighed, wished for Scotch. She raked her fingers through my curls.

"What happened?" she asked gently.

I couldn't tell the truth, at least not with Edison looming. I just told her, "We weren't going anywhere. So we cut our losses."

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

I sighed. "It's okay. It was going to happen sooner or later, so better now than after we had wasted years."

"I'm sorry," she repeated. I breathed in the smell of her on my old sweatpants. I had been thinner the year I got them and wouldn't have currently fit them, but they were gigantic on her, the waistband and legs rolled to make them fit.

"Me too," I muttered.

"Hey Liv, I'm gonna get out of here," Edison announced, coming back into the room fully dressed.

"You don't have to leave," she said, making no move to get up. Her hand was still in my hair, scratching my scalp gently. I felt smugly favored.

"Nah; you guys need to work this out and I feel like I'm in the way." Even I heard the edge in his voice. I looked at the digital clock on her cable box. 3:17AM.

She still didn't move, but she frowned at him. "Something _wrong_, Edison?"

"No," he answered too forcefully. "I just need to get to work early and I figured I'd have a better chance getting some sleep at my place."

"If that's how you feel," she said in a frightening even tone. I knew he didn't like me, but there was definitely something more to this exchange than him disapproving of our relationship. I suspected there would a shit storm at some point following this incident. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Talk" meant Olivia was going to rip him a new asshole at the very least. He said goodnight then left. Olivia sighed when the door shut.

"He's such a drama queen," she groaned. "I like him a lot but he knows how to pluck a nerve like nobody else. And _talk_ about needy! I can't."

"You don't do needy," I said with a smirk as I sat up. I couldn't listen to her talk about Edison, even if it was less than flattering. "Which, ironically, is exactly how I'm starting to feel. I'm gonna head home, Liv."

"That wasn't your fault, Fitz," she said, grabbing my hand and stopping me from getting off the couch.

"He doesn't like me. He thinks I'm in love with you." I didn't know why I felt the need to say it, but it was the truth. I looked at her.

She shrugged. "I don't think it's that personal. He thinks we're a little close. But that's his problem. You're my best friend in the world."

"Shit, I'm your only friend." She laughed as she reached for the remote on the coffee table.

"Well you're so _needy_, I don't really have time for anyone else," she joked.

We made "Electric Blue Bugaloo" margaritas, a recipe from our college days which involved blue Koolaid powder mix and Sprite because we couldn't afford margarita mix, and watched _Behind the Music_ for a few hours. We got impressively sloshed as we drank from oversized novelty margarita glasses branded with PCB SPRING BREAK 2007—our first Spring Break trip together. She decided we needed cupcakes to get rid of our relationship blues, finishing off her fourth drink. She turned on Pandora Radio on her phone and danced around the kitchen to Katy Perry as she collected ingredients for champagne weeding cake cupcakes. I sat on the counter above her oven, watching her with tipsy amusement, my fifth margarita in hand. By the time she put the cupcakes in the oven, I was drunkenly close to saying those three little words. But I was very recently post-breakup and she was pre-fight, and she would have thought I was just wasted and babbling. I put my margarita down and sighed.

"Look at me. I'm 27 years old and drunk off _Electric Blue Bugaloo_ margaritas at 6 in the morning. I'm wearing a Black Sabbath t-shirt and plaid pants and I haven't been grunge in years. I've got no woman, no dog, and I can't even fix my own damn leaky bathroom faucet. My life's a mess." She stopped loading the dishwasher and looked at me with a smirk.

"I'm 25 and unmarried. My boyfriend asked me to kill a spider in the bathroom last night. I've got $100 in my checking account, and my mother e-mails me wedding announcements every week. 'Mess' is an understatement for my life." She finished my margarita then grinned at me. "But, I'll let you in on a secret."

"Please do." She was more gorgeous than I remembered as we made eye contact in that moment. My breath caught when she stepped between my legs and planted a sweet electric Blue Bugaloo kiss on my bottom lip.

"We're all a mess. Everyone in their 20's is. We've just gotta hold onto the thought that it's all gonna come together somehow, Fitz." I touched my lip to make sure the kiss had really happened. It was sticky with Koolaid mix. I licked it off. It would be the closest I ever came to tasting her.

"'We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at stars,'" I quoted.

"Wilde was a wise man," she replied. I loved that she loved my fascination with quotes. Quinn had found it novel at first then but it slowly began to annoy her. I couldn't help it. As a Literature professor, words were my life.

"He was a sassy drunk," I teased. She loved Oscar Wilde. I had bought her a first edition of _The Importance of Being Earnest_ for her birthday the year before. She smirked at me.

"Oh, _what_ever," she replied. "Let's hope he was right though. If he wasn't, we're fucked."

We fell asleep around 7, stuffed with cupcakes and booze. She lay with her head on my chest on the couch. I waited until she was deeply asleep before I wrapped my arms around her sleeping body. Her breathing was so even, her small body wedged between mine and the back of the couch. I finally breathed the words aloud. She didn't stir. I finally fell asleep, hoping somewhere in that place between dreaming and awake, she had heard me.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews (: Just a warning, Mellie makes an appearance. But fear not, she won't be around for long. This chapter takes place a month after the last one.**

I was surprised when a knock at my office door preceded Edison's entrance. I tried to look friendly and ended up giving a Joker-ish grin.

"Hey Fitz, sorry to drop by unannounced but I don't have your number and I didn't want to ask Liv for it," he said.

"It's fine. Please sit." I gestured to the chairs in front of my desk. He sat and I considered him for a minute.

He was intelligent, handsome, successful, and he seemed like a nice guy. He wasn't horrible, but he wasn't the one for Liv—granted, my opinion was horribly biased. I didn't like him. He held her hand insistently, like he was proving a point. I had heard him condescend to her multiple time—calling her a "cupcake queen" or saying that her job was "cute." Olivia owned and operated her bakery completely independently, from advertising to accounting to overseeing the frosting of each cupcake. She was no fucking "cupcake queen." I guessed that Edison's job as a marketing exec made him feel superior. Prick.

"I'm here because I want to throw Liv a surprised party for her birthday. Nothing fancy: a few friends, some nice wine, good food. You," he leveled me with a slight smirk, "know her better than anyone so I was hoping you would help me make it very Olivia."

"Liv hates surprises," I replied, surprised that he had come to me for help because he didn't seem to like me.

"Well she won't hate this one." I shrugged off his confidence. Olivia wasn't a fan of surprises of any sort, but Edison apparently wasn't a fan of my opinion despite asking for it.

"Whatever you say, man. What do you need my help with?"

An hour later, we were headed to Target. Edison drove a Lexus, not obnoxiously flashy, but spotless like he had it professionally cleaned and detailed every week. I wouldn't have been surprised to find that he did. He grabbed a buggy and I sighed, wondering all he planned to get. Simplicity was a pillar of Olivia's personality, and a tacky surprise party just wouldn't do.

Edison pushed the cart to the wine section and went for the white wine. I shook my head. Olivia hated white wine vehemently. I wondered how he didn't know that after five months with her. I suggested, "I would go with red. Liv hates white."

He blinked like he was surprised at the new knowledge. Asshole. He went to the red and grabbed four bottles without checking the names. I exchanged them one by one for wines she liked. Olivia loved wine with a palette on the sweeter side, and all Edison's picks were dry and tart. I added a couple of bottles of champagne just to make sure we had options.

"How many people are you expecting?" I asked when he went to pick out cheap glasses.

"Twenty or so. A couple of friends, the girls from the bakery, you, that guy Cyrus, some of her old friends from school." This party was going to be a disaster. He didn't know what he was doing.

I shook my head. "The girls from the bakery are too young; they'll feel out of place. She's only got like five friends from grad school and they're all recently married. She's not gonna wanna see newlywed canoodling all night. Cyrus isn't a big fan of newlyweds either and you don't want to see him drunk and annoyed. He's also gonna be bringing his new boyfriend so it might get a little awkward because those women are Stepford wives in training, and James is kind of blunt. Liv will love him, but they might not. I don't know your friends so I can't say how she'll feel about them. I will say that she doesn't like surprises, or her birthday, and she's gonna get wasted and have a little meltdown. It happens every year, no matter where we go or what we do."

"So it's gonna be me and Liv, and Cyrus and James, and you and your date," he replied, a little edge I decided not to take personally. I couldn't think of anyone I could bring as a date. I decided to look up Liv's old roommate Abby and invite her. She was almost guaranteed to be a bigger shit show than Liv.

"She won't like the party either way, but she'll be way more tolerant of it if it's small." He nodded as he pushed the cart to the grocery section.

"You're not thinking of cooking, are you?" I couldn't hide my smirk. He was so far off with Olivia that I wasn't sure they were even together.

He stopped walking and turned around to look at me with more than a little annoyance on his face. He replied, "Liv likes my cooking."

"She's a _chef_. Anything less than gourmet cooking won't do on her birthday. She's always been critical of party food because it establishes the theme and tone of the evening. I would get a caterer—a _good _ one. She loves Chinese food so I'd go with that, but she hates Chinese hors d'oeuvres. And she hates spicy food."

He blinked at me. "Scallops?"

"If you'd like to kill her. She's got a deadly seafood allergy." Five months together and he didn't even know why she wore a medic alert bracelet. I guessed it was because he had never asked. Prick. "She's deathly allergic to nuts and strawberries, too, just so you know."

"No seafood, no nuts, no strawberries. Got it." He wanted to punch me. I knew it. I was a little ashamed of myself for enjoying antagonizing him. "What do _you_ suggest?"

"Something with bread. She's probably gonna get loaded pretty early so it's gotta be something she can eat before and after to soak up the booze. She's crazy about these little French cheese biscuit things we had in New Orleans on New Year's last year. Asian cuisine with a French infusion sounds good. It sounds like something Liv would do.

He nodded as we went to the register. Glancing at me like he hated that I had a functioning mouth, he asked, "Why does she hate birthdays?"

"Her parents got divorced when she was four and the only time they would be together was on her birthday. It always ended horribly. That's why you'll only see one or the other on holidays." I wondered what they talked about, how he didn't know any of these things. I could only guess that he only wanted to talk about himself.

* * *

"Happy birthday," I said a week later when I was awakened by her phone call at 7 AM.

"Edison's throwing me a surprise party," she said matter-of-factly.

"He is," I replied. "I helped. It shouldn't suck."

"Did you tell him that I hate surprises?"

"Yes."

"And he still went with it?"

I chuckled as I got out of bed to make coffee. "Apparently you won't hate this one."

She scoffed. I chuckled again. "Cut him a break, Liv. He tried. How'd you find out, anyway?"

"I heard him confirming the caterer. French-Asian fusion. Sounds good. Him?"

"Me. He was going to cook for you…and apparently kill you. He wanted scallops." There was a knock at the door as I poured milk into my coffee. I smiled, knowing it was her. She stood on the other side in a blue Georgetown t-shirt, probably mine judging by the size, and black leggings.

"Happy birthday, Liv." I gave her a hug and kissed her temple.

"You said that already," she griped. We walked to the kitchen and she hoisted herself onto the island, her little bare feet dangling. She took my mug of coffee and added sugar to it then sipped it. I smirked as I took it back. She asked, "Why is he throwing me a party?"

I laughed. "That's what boyfriends do. And girlfriends are _supposed_ to like them."

"Well fuck that," she replied. She wasn't wearing any makeup yet. She looked about 20 with hair wavy from leaving it wet when she went to bed. I wondered if she noticed little things about me the way I noticed about her.

I laughed. "You're an asshole."

She kicked at me, her little nose wrinkling as she giggled, but her leg was too short to reach. "That's a mean thing to call the birthday girl! Speaking of which, where's my present?"

"For someone who hates birthdays, you seem really excited about the prospect of presents," I teased as I left to get her presents from my closet.

I came back into the kitchen with two boxes, one big and one small. "I was only going to get you one present originally, but then I just kind of happened upon the second one. Pick."

Just like I knew she would, she picked the small box. She tore off the silver wrapping paper and gasped at the telltale blue box.

"Fitz…" she breathed when she saw the watch. It was very Olivia: dainty and simplistic, white gold with a little round face with a ruby—her birthstone—at the center of the hands. She grinned like someone had stuck a hanger in her mouth. I could have said it then but a knock at the door followed by the sound of heavy footsteps cut me off. Edison appeared before us in his pajamas. She skipped to him, announced, "Look what Fitz bought me!"

He looked at the watch then at me. "Nice. Tiffany. Must have set you back a bit."

He knew. It was all over his face. He knew even if Liv didn't. I shrugged. "No big deal."

Olivia looked from him to me and back. "Who cares what it cost? It's beautiful and I'm gonna wear it forever."

She gave me a hug before they left. I showered to drown out their raised voices. Edison hadn't even been around when I bought the watch during Tiffany and Co's after Christmas sale. It _had_ set me back a bit but I hadn't spent $500 to get into a pissing match with him.

Cyrus, James, and I sat in Olivia's apartment that night waiting for her and Edison. The doorbell rang and I smiled when I found Olivia's old roommate Abby on the other side.

"Abby! Long time no see," I greeted.

"You haven't changed a bit Fitz!" She gave me a hug. It was different from hugging Olivia. Abby was 5'10 without heels. In the ones she was wearing, we were almost eye to eye. She held a large plain black box in her thin hands. She asked, "Where's the birthday girl?"

"On the way I'm assuming," I answered. I hoped she was. The catering crew was done setting up and were beginning to cook.

"_You_ are _stunning_!" James announced when I made introductions.

"Oh stop!" Abby was crimson. James laughed. They were instant best friends when he found out she was the editor-in-chief of _InStyle_ magazine. I smirked at Cyrus as he smiled at James, clearly smitten. I would never have put them together, but there they were, holding hands like teenagers while James and Abby talked about summer fashion trends. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from a number that I guessed was Edison: **20 minutes away**. I sent back: **All good. Everything's ready**.

"So Fitz," I turned to look at Abby, "did you ever tell Liv?"

"Tell her what?" I asked, already knowing what she was talking about.

Abby had known how I felt about Olivia since Liv's 21st birthday. She had gotten blackout drunk and subsequently very sick at Waffle House at 2AM. I had gotten her back to her apartment, dragging a tipsy Abby along too, and removed her vomit-smelling clothes. _You love her_, Abby had declared as I washed her smoky hair in the shower. _Like you wouldn't do the same thing if I wasn't here_, I deflected. Abby argued that she would have just put her to bed. It hadn't even occurred to me to leave her that way. She was so helpless at the time, crying about some thing or another, that I couldn't have left her if I'd wanted to. My heart wouldn't leave. Besides, Liv had done the same for me on my 21st birthday when my frat brothers couldn't get me to leave a bar. She'd come to the bar at 3 in the morning and shepherded me to my apartment then sat up with me all night while I puked. But Abby wouldn't hear it. She told me I had it bad then stumbled to bed. Abby and I were better friends after that, mostly because she knew my biggest secret.

"That you're Spiderman! What do you mean, 'Tell her what?'" She smirked and rolled her eyes at me.

"He hasn't," Cyrus answered for me. Abby shook her head.

"Everybody ready to yell surprise?" Olivia shouted from the other side of the door. She I smiled as I shook my head. She was such an asshole. She opened the door and we all yelled surprise.

"Shut _up_ all of you!" she yelled back, smiling. She was devastatingly beautiful in a black peplum dress that fit like a glove. She had straightened her hair and it hung like black silk around her face. She was wearing red lipstick…and the watch. It gleamed beautifully on her little wrist. Her grin widened when she saw Abby. "Abby!"

"Happy birthday!" Abby sealed as they jumped and hugged like girls do. "You look so gorgeous!"

"Not next to you!" Olivia blushed the way Abby had, brushing her hair back bashfully.

"Oh my gawd! Look at that watch!" Abby exclaimed. Liv thrust her wrist out, beaming so beautifully. James gave an "ooh" and glanced pointedly at Cyrus. Cyrus smirked.

"Fitz gave it to me. Isn't it gorgeous?" She smiled at me and I felt my face go hot. She was the only woman who rattled me. Abby and Cyrus smirked at me. Edison's look was much less friendly. I just shrugged.

After dinner was served, Abby stood to give a toast. She was tipsy, her whole face pink. She clinked her fork against the glass, inexplicably giggling.

"Liv we've been friends for seven years and you haven't aged a day. You _bitch_," she giggled again, swaying on her heels. "Seriously, you're the only woman on this planet that I genuinely like, and I hope you have many more birthdays…and many more parties cause this wine is _good!_"

Olivia laughed as she got up to hug Abby. Cyrus nudged me. I frowned and shook my head. Seeing her be affectionate with Edison had tanked the evening for me. He leaned over and muttered. "You have to say something. You're her best friend."

He was right. I downed my wine then refilled my glass. I stood and clinked my knife against my glass as I looked around the table. Cyrus and James grinned like meddling schoolgirls. Abby smirked as she refilled her glass. Edison sat stone-faced, his arm possessively around Olivia. Asshole. Liv smiled at me, her eyes shining. I almost said it, but I was too sad to have the beautiful words she deserved. Instead I said, "Liv you've been my best friend for seven years. You've been a part of some of the best moments of my life. Ironically, none of them have been birthdays. But, I look forward to listening to you throw up later, you lush. Seriously, though, you are class and grace personified and I am unbelievably lucky that you didn't brand me a creep after our first conversation. I love you, Liv. You're my best friend in the world."

She smiled wide, her eyes the size of saucers, then joked, "Shit, I'm your only friend."

I laughed as she walked around the table to hug me. I turned away from the table so no one would see me close my eyes when she was finally in my arms, and breathe in her scent when I kissed the crown of her head.

"I guess it's my turn," Edison joked as he stood once Liv and I were seated again. "Olivia, I love you. You're the best thing that's happened to me. I'm looked forward to many, many more years of this kind of happiness…"

I stopped listening. I couldn't bear staring at Olivia as she stared at him with stars in her eyes. I downed my wine and refilled my glass. When he did, he sat down and Olivia planted a kiss on his lips. I put my napkin next to my picked-at orange chicken then stood up.

"Excuse me," I said before going to stand on the terrace that spanned between the living/dining room and Olivia's bedroom. I was alone for a few minutes, staring at the city's bright lights and feeling smaller than ever, before Abby came out and stood next to me. I sighed, "Don't, Abby."

"I wasn't planning to," she replied.

I sighed again, gulped my wine. I wasn't even a little drunk, or maybe I was too sad to notice. "I'm not a coward. I just can't say it. I can tell her everything except this one thing."

Abby squeezed my hand. "When the time's right, it'll be the easiest thing in the world."

"I hope so." I finished my wine and we went back inside. I ignored Olivia's questioning eyes, feeling a little bitter. Cyrus asked if I wanted to go back to Hair of the Dog. I agreed almost immediately. I was bitter and lonely and wanted a bar hookup. A warm body in my bed might have been the cure for my blues.

After a mostly quiet dinner, we all loaded into cabs and headed for the bar. I was glad Abby rode with Olivia and Edison so I didn't have to. The bar was packed. Cyrus ad James immediately hit the dance floor. Abby dragged me to the other end of the bar opposite Olivia and Edison. She got neat scotches for both of us, nudging me encouraging with her elbow.

I couldn't stop looking at them. Olivia was drunk and lavishing him with tipsy kissing. _Maybe he's the cure for the birthday meltdowns_, I thought bitterly as she cackled at whatever he was saying.

"Heads up, Fitz," Abby murmured, looking down at her phone. "Pretty brunette on your right."

I looked to my right. Sure enough, there was a brunette woman watching me. She appeared to be drinking Scotch too. She was pretty: alabaster skin, thick coffee colored hair, dark brown eyes, inviting smile. She waved at me. I raised my glass to her.

"Go get her, slugger," Abby slurred as I got up to go talk to the woman. I sat next to her and grinned. Mellie. Pretty name. I didn't even think of Olivia while we were talking. Mellie was the kind of woman who didn't leave room for anyone else. We talked until Abby took a swing at a girl in a ladies' room and got kicked out of the bar. Mellie and I sat too close in the back of a taxi. Cyrus and James made sure Abby got home. I didn't even look for Olivia and Edison.

I frowned when we ended up on the same elevator as them. Olivia's face was red, and she was swaying slightly on her heels. Edison was frowning as he held her purse.

"Fitz you met a girl!" Olivia exclaimed. She turned to Mellie, grinning. "Hi! I'm Fitz's best friend Olivia."

"I'm Mellie. Nice to meet you." They shook hands and Olivia grinned at me.

"She's prettier than the other one," she declared.

I smiled, wrapped my arm around Mellie's shoulders. I would make it work with her or die trying. I cynically suspected it would be the latter. "I know."

I undressed Mellie in silence. She didn't seem to mind that I was clearly distracted. I wondered why women never seemed to mind the fact that I wasn't really there with them. Olivia would never have stood for it. But then, Olivia wasn't just a woman.

"Fuck you Edison!" Something crashed and I was instantly awake. I sat up, almost rolling Mellie of the bed.

"Isn't that your friend Olivia yelling?" she asked with a yawn. Something else crashed and I heard Edison yelling. He wasn't as loud as Olivia so I couldn't understand what he was saying. I sighed as I shook my head. The birthday meltdown tradition was destined to live on. Mellie slipped out of bed and got dressed quietly. She might have been talking. I can't say. I wasn't paying attention. There was a third crash and a door slam then someone stomped down the hall. A moment later, there was an incessant knocking at the door. Mellie grabbed her purse and we headed for the door. She was a woman who knew when to clear out. I liked that.

"I'll call you tomorrow…well, later today." She laughed then kissed me.

"Goodnight Fitz…morning…whatever," she replied. I opened the door. Olivia stood before us, still her party dress, her makeup gone, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. I opened my arms and she rushed to me, burying her face. Mellie blinked at us then waved as she stepped around us to get out the door. Olivia sniveled as I walked us to the couch. She threw herself down and sighed, wiping at her eyes. I went to get sodas for us. The scene was oddly similar to the night Quinn and I broke up. I sat on the couch and opened my arms for her. She scooted close and lay her head on my chest.

"Another birthday, another meltdown," she said softly. I rubbed her baby soft shoulder. Her skin was a little cold. I pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her.

"If it makes you feel any better, it's 3AM, so technically this wasn't a birthday meltdown," I replied.

She laughed a little. "We've been going at it since we got back from the bar and that was yesterday. I think."

"I'd offer you a drink but that hardly seems the solution for this problem," I replied, offering her both cans of soda. She picked the Coke, leaving me with root beer.

"I'd decline anyway. I'm already a little hungover and I'm not even completely sober yet." I laughed and rubbed her shoulder. I wondered how I had never noticed how soft her skin was.

"So what happened?" I asked.

"He said I was jealous of you and that girl," she answered. "Then he started up about how much time we spend together and I…I was _not_ pleased."

I smirked at the memory of the crashing of what I guessed was dishes. I asked, hoping she was but knowing she wasn't, "Why would you be jealous of me and Mellie?"

"Who the hell knows? I was looking for you at the bar and he pointed you two out. I said, 'O.' He said, 'Oh what?' I said 'Nothing,' and that I hadn't been expecting you to be talking to a girl because you seemed so down earlier. And off he went about how I was '_obviously'_ jealous and it was a shit storm from there."

I squeezed her shoulder. "He'll get over it…unless you nailed him with whatever you were softball pitching over there."

She laughed. I didn't care how nice Mellie was, that laugh would forever stop and start my heart. "I got pretty close with a plate, but he ducked."

I laughed. "So what did you get?"

"Abby gave me a Prada bag that I would have had to hook for to afford on my own. Prada just _sent_ it to her! A thousand dollars' worth of gorgeous Moroccan red Italian leather that they just _handed_ to her! And she just _handed_ it to me!" She was so cute, gushing over her purse.

I squeezed her shoulder again. "Maybe she threatened to slug someone and they just sent it as a bribe."

"I _can't_ believe she did that! I'm supposed to be the biggest shit show on my birthday!" she exclaimed, laughing like an angel. I couldn't have picked Mellie out of a lineup at that moment. The stars in my eyes were gigantic, and they looked exactly like Liv.

"So what did Cyrus and James get you?"

"Cyrus got me this _gorgeous_ Yves Saint Laurent smoking jacket from one of those vintage shops downtown that I would sell my soul for in a heartbeat, and James got me a Kate Spade necklace. It's a little cupcake on a gold chain and it's the cutest thing every," she gushed. It sounded like this was her happiest birthday gift-wise.

I had been dreading asking, but it would have seemed petty not to. "And Edison?"

"His credit card," she answered, sounding a little annoyed. "He said I could buy myself whatever I wanted because he's 'terrible' at picking gifts."

"You should get those Louboutins you've been talking about forever," I suggested.

"The fact that _you_ remember that and he doesn't and I've had _sex_ with him is not helping his case at all," she said as she reached for the remote to unmute the TV. She changed the channel incessantly, the way she always did but I never complained about, until she finally settled on SpongeBob of all things. She was about to lay her head back on my chest, but she stopped and looked at me. "You got me two presents. Where's my other one?"

"I forgot," I replied as I got up to retrieve the box from my bedroom. When I came back, she was gone. I walked to her apartment and stepped into her bedroom doorway just in time to see her stepping out of her dress with her back to the door. "Shit. Sorry Liv."

She hurried into the closet, laughing. "Well, happy birthday to you. At least I don't have to get you anything now."

"Well someone thinks highly of herself," I teased. She appeared a moment later in a large black t-shirt, the bottom of neon Nike running shorts peeking from underneath it. It was my favorite black t-shirt from the Gap. Smirking, I asked, "Do you have a stash of my clothes that I'm not aware of?"

"You've left so much stuff here over the years that I basically do," she answered.

"Most people would give that stuff back," I pointed out as we walked back to my apartment.

"Why give it back when it's free pajamas?" I smirked at her as we sat on the couch. I gave her the box and she ripped the wrapping paper off like a greedy child. She pulled the top off the white box and gasped. It was a first edition of Julia Childs' first recipe book. "Fitz, where did you get this?"

"My rare books guy found it in France on his last trip and I'd already gotten the watch but it was in far too good condition to pass up," I explained as she opened it, examining the ancient pages in wonder.

I needed to say it. It was the perfect moment to say it. She looked so beautiful at that moment, her eyes soft as she flipped through the book. The words were right on my tongue. Her hand on mine made my thoughts swim out of focus. She gave it a soft squeeze and said, "Thank you Fitz…for everything, not just the presents. You're always around to pick up my pieces."

I shrugged, knowing I was blushing. I cursed my mother for giving me her pale coloring. "You've done the same for me so many times, Liv."

She grinned at me. "Wanna get some breakfast?"

"You don't have any food do you?" I asked, smirking at her.

"I've got popcorn and wine…but that's about it," she answered.

I laughed. "I love how you cook for a living and never have food at home."

She went to change clothes and I brushed the taste of scotch and Mellie out of my mouth. She came back a few minutes later in an oversized chambray button down, black leggings, and flip flops with her new bag swinging from the crook of her elbow. The purse was beautiful and sophisticated but fun, just like Olivia. She had pulled her hair back into a loose knot at the crown of her head, gigantic sunglasses in her hand. It always amazed me how quickly she could transform herself into someone who looked like they had more than popcorn and wine in their kitchen.

"Ready?" she asked, smirking at me as I tried to control the one stubborn curl that never cooperated with the rest of my hair. It was determined to dangle so I left it.

"You need to stop stealing my clothes," I said as I recognized the button down as my own. I didn't even remember leaving it at her apartment.

"I borrowed this and you told me to keep it," she replied. My memory clicked. Quinn had bought me the shirt but I hated it. Olivia thought it was cool. Oddly enough, her liking it still didn't make it something I could see myself in.

"Since you're buying, I'm driving," I announced as we stepped off the elevator.

"You would make me pay for my breakfast the after my birthday?"

I smirked at her. "I bought you a $500 watch; you can buy me a plate of eggs, Liv."

"But you got to see me naked!" she scoffed, giggling we headed for my black Jeep Wrangler. I remembered the smooth skin of her back, the sheer band of her black bra, the dimples in the small of her back, the little silk bow on the back of the waistband of her g-string. I wondered if all her skin was as soft as her arms. She climbed into the passenger seat.

"One, you weren't naked. You were pretty close but close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades." She laughed as I started the car. "And two, it was from behind so basically I got mooned."

She laughed again as I let the top down. She cranked up the radio. She sang along to "Wonderwall" by Oasis as I drove through the city to the Cracker Barrel near the university. I found myself enjoying the sight of her enjoying herself.

After breakfast, we went to her apartment to clean up the post-meltdown mess. She had destroyed three plates and two wine glasses. I teased her about her aim. When everything was cleaned up, we watched a _House_ marathon. She drifted off to sleep after a few episodes, snuggled perfectly against my body like we had been created to fit together that way. I kissed the crown of her head, pulling the afghan draped over the back of her couch onto her body. _Every day should be like this,_ I thought as I shifted so I could fall asleep.

**A/N: Sooooo...it's gonna get _messy_ in the next few chapters! **

**A/N (2): I'm working on a smutty update for Goodnight that should be up in a few days if you read that story too. If you don't, feel free to check it out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So this chapter is a little long but it covers a lot. I happens about 2-3 weeks after the last one. There's a little smut but it's a fluffy kind of smut lol. Enjoy and review! XOXO**

"So how did you two meet?" Mellie asked, looking from me to Olivia.

"Well…" I began, trying to find a way to frame the story so it wouldn't ruin the evening. I looked at Olivia.

"It was the first day of our freshman year at Georgetown, and he sat next to me in English class. I said hello and he just sat there with the goofy look on his face," she began, smiling as she nudged me. "So I asked if he was okay and he blushed bright red then started rambling. 'I'm not usually this weird, I swear. This is just awkward. You're not awkward! I'm awkward! You're…gorgeous.' Then he gets this really horrified look on his face and says, 'I'm gonna stop talking now.'"

I nudged her back, laughing a little. "Then she laughed in my face."

"I can't imagine you being that tongue-tied, Fitz." Mellie smiled tightly. She definitely didn't find the story funny, or cute, and judging by Edison's frown, he wasn't particularly amused either.

"He was," Olivia replied, giving me a grin. I felt my face becoming hot. I sipped my wine.

Mellie looked at Olivia. "So how did you and Edison meet?"

"I went into her bakery for a doughnut one morning and there she was," Edison answered, reaching across the table to take her hand. "She played hard to get for a whole week before she gave me her number, and for a week after that before she agreed to go out with me."

Olivia smiled at him. "He probably gained five pounds from all the doughnuts he bought!"

"Worth every pound," he joked. Mellie laughed, eating up their cuteness. I sipped my wine, desperately wanting to slug him. He smirked at me. "So Fitz, how did you and Mellie meet?"

"Well I was sitting at the bar and I couldn't take my eyes off him," Mellie piped up. I had never been so thankful for her loud mouth. "So he came over and he said, 'You know, I met my ex-girlfriend in these very seats.' He was so charming and handsome that I couldn't resist."

I smiled at her when she squeezed my hand. I joked, "By 'charming' she means hammered." I nudged Liv, grinning at her. "Seriously, your birthday party put me off hard liquor forever."

"You? Let's not forget I threw up in a Cracker Barrel parking lot," she replied. When we got to Cracker Barrel the morning after her meltdown, she promptly vomited in their bushes. We ordered dinner and Olivia frowned when Edison ordered halibut. Smirking at him, she asked, "Planning to kill me with a goodnight kiss."

He blinked before he remembered her allergy. "Oh… Sorry, babe."

"It's fine," she said evenly.

We settled into an uncomfortable silence. Mellie's foot snaked up my leg but all I could think about was the smell of Olivia's perfume and the perfect shade of red on her lips. It had been a terrible idea to sit next to her. No, it had been a terrible idea to agree to a double date with Olivia and Edison in the first place. But Mellie had insisted and I was trying my best to make this relationship better than my last one. When our food arrived, Mellie took a bite of my grilled chicken, offering me a bite of her spinach salad. Olivia picked at her steak.

Edison asked her, "What's wrong with it?"

"It's a little overcooked," she muttered. I glanced at the steak. She only ate medium well steaks. Hers was well done.

I asked, "Do you want to send it back and get something else?"

Mellie and Edison shot me looks. It was apparently more of a boyfriend question.

She shook her head as she cut it into chunks. "It's okay."

"Want to eat my potato and leave the steak?" Edison wasn't one to be outdone.

"You've been eating it and the fish with the same fork. I can't," she answered. I smirked at my chicken. Apparently "deathly allergic" didn't mean the same thing to him that it did to everyone else. Mellie looked down at her plate, her foot snaking a rhythmic pattern up and down my calf. Olivia reached onto my plate with her fork and took a chunk of my chicken. Edison watched the whole thing with serious eyes. I suspected there would be another dish-hurling incident that night.

Mellie looked up at me. "You're not eating. Is something wrong with your food?"

I blinked away from Olivia's exposed collarbone, thinking I should never sit by her again—or be near her, really—around my girlfriend again. I replied, "Oh. No."

* * *

"That was fun," Mellie commented as I drove back to my apartment. It must have been for her. I was drained from the warmth radiating off Olivia's body and the electricity that shot through me each time she nudged me with her elbow. I kept picturing the cute way she wrinkled her nose and smiled when I told funny stories about her accumulated over the years. "We should do it again."

I nodded, giving a noncommittal grunt. She gasped, seemingly struck by the best idea in the world. "We should throw a dinner party!"

That was the absolute last thing we needed to do. But she was already prattling so excitedly about themes and menus that not agreeing to it would have created more problems than necessary. So I put on a smile and pretended to be excited about the party.

* * *

The night of the party, a knock at the door preceded Olivia entering my apartment without waiting for me to open the door. She was in a short black silk robe, holding two dresses.

"What do I wear to this thing?" she asked, holding up both dresses. One was gray and sleeveless with a v neckline. The other was a red version of the black peplum dress she'd worn on her birthday.

"Well you can't wear the gray one because I'm wearing the same thing," I joked. She smirked. Something was wrong. If nothing else, Olivia could put together an outfit. I asked, "What's wrong, Liv?"

She plopped on the couch. I tried not to notice her robe shifting and exposing a sliver of the black lace edging the purple satin of her bra, and the round mound of flesh cupped in it. She sighed, "I hear ice cracking."

"Are you drunk?" I asked, going into the kitchen the get bottles of water for both of us so I could make myself stop looking at her almost exposed breast.

"Have you ever walked across a frozen lake and heard ice cracking? It's the scariest sound in the world." she asked. I handed her the water. She took the bottle but didn't open it. She frowned at the gray dress. "This looks like something my mother would buy me."

I smirked. She was coming back around from wherever she'd gone. I held up a black tie and a red one. She looked over my gray shirt and black jeans. She shook her head. I put the ties down. She sighed again, opened her water. "I hear ice cracking every time I'm with Edison lately. The lake is gonna shatter; I just don't know when."

"What's going on?" She was crying before I knew it, deep sobs that seemed to erupt from her body.

"We're just not working. We can't go out without arguing. I love him, and I'm trying, but I don't know what he wants. I don't think I have anything to give him, Fitz."

"Calm down. Deep breaths. That's it." I knelt in front of her, taking her shaking hands in mine. "It's not over until it's over, Liv."

I didn't like Edison but I would have been the best man at their wedding if he was what made Liv happy. I pulled my handkerchief from my pocket. My phone started ringing in my bedroom. I went to get it. It was Mellie.

"Fitz where are you?" she asked frantically.

"I'm gonna be a little late," I answered. "Liv is having a little breakdown."

"Is she okay?" Mellie didn't care. She just wanted me there. Olivia walked past me into my bathroom. She didn't seem to be crying anymore.

"She's pulling it together," I answered. There was a knock at the door. "Look Mel, there's someone at the door. I've gotta go. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay. Love you. Bye." It was the first time she'd said it.

I cleared my throat. "Me too. Bye."

It didn't even occur to me that I hadn't said the right thing. I went to answer the door. It was Edison of all people. "Hey man."

"Have you seen Liv? Her door's open but she's not in her apartment," he said.

I nodded as I stepped back to let him inside. "Uh, yeah. She's in the bathroom. Come on in."

He looked around me at the open door of my oddly placed guest bathroom in the corner of the living room between my floor to ceiling bookshelf and the window looking out at the park across the street. "Uh, there's no one in there man."

I glanced behind me. "Oh. She's in my bathroom. That's the guest bath."

It didn't occur to me how things must have looked until Olivia walked back into the room. "Did you tell Mellie about my—Edison…hi."

"Hi," he replied, his mouth a hard line, his jaw clenching and unclenching. "You left your door wide open."

"I just came over to ask Fitz if he'd told Mellie about my allergies," she replied.

"I did," I told her.

"Good," Edison commented, looking pointedly at her. She looked down at herself and I saw the realization of how we must have looked flash over her face. None of us moved, all standing awkwardly not looking at each other. She made a move for the door and Edison finally did too. I noticed her empty hands.

"Liv you left your clothes," I reminded.

"Oh. Right," she said as she went and picked them up off the couch. Edison's eyebrows raised. I realized again how we looked. I had never cared before what Edison thought but she seemed to want them to work and I wanted her to be happy.

"What exactly is going on?" Edison asked, looking from me to Liv.

"I asked him to help me pick out a dress," she answered.

"Because you can't pick your own clothes?" he snapped.

She sighed. "Well you weren't here yet and I needed to ask him about the food anyway, so I just asked. Don't start."

"'Don't start?" His voice raised slightly, the vein in his forehead popping out as his eyes widened. He apparently had quite the temper. "You're over here traipsing around in your _underwear_, coming out of his _personal_ bathroom, and I'm not supposed to _start_? When exactly _should_ I _start_, Olivia?"

I could hear the ice cracking. I cleared my throat. "She's telling the truth, man."

"Because _you_ would tell me if something _had_ happened?" he snapped at me. My jaw clenched.

"Leave him alone, Edison!" Olivia snapped before I could say anything. She was frowning deeply.

"Maybe _you_ should leave him alone!" he shouted.

"Maybe you should go to hell!" she shouted, storming to her apartment. He followed a moment later, glaring at me before he left. He slammed the door and they lit into each other. I shook my head as I grabbed my keys to leave. Ice cracking was an understatement.

"Everything okay?" Mellie asked when I arrived at her apartment.

"We'll see," I replied. I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of Scotch. She followed me, eyeing me suspiciously.

"What happened with Liv?" she asked, her voice neutral even though her eyes were scanning me.

"Little crisis." I sipped my Scotch. "Then Edison showed up and turned it into Hiroshima."

She frowned. "Are they coming? I made dinner for six."

"I don't know. They were going at it pretty hard." I thought of texting Olivia to see if everything was okay, but that would have probably made things worse for both of us.

Cyrus and James showed up at 9, laughing and canoodling like teenagers. Olivia and Edison finally made it around 9:30. Edison was quiet. Olivia smiled at Mellie but it didn't reach her eyes. She went into the kitchen and I waited a moment then followed her.

"Everything okay?" I asked gently.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just tired."

"I'll take you home if you want," I offered. I didn't know what to do for her, what to give her. She seemed like she was falling apart and I didn't know how to pick up the pieces this time. She downed her glass of wine then poured another.

"I'm not going home. I'm gonna have a good time tonight if it kills me," she replied, her voice cracking.

"Liv…" She sniffed and wiped her eyes, her back to me. The red dress dipped lowed in the back than the black one had and her hair was pulled into a low bun, putting a portion of the trail of black stars tattooed from the back of her neck to the valley between the dimples on her lower back on display. I remembered the way she had held my hand the night she got them. It was her 22nd birthday and a little liquid courage had coaxed her into the tattoo parlor.

"I'm fine," she squeaked. I moved toward her and pulled her into my arms. She took a deep breath.

"Fitz is everything—" Mellie stopped short in the kitchen's doorway. Olivia sniffed as she let me go. Mellie's eyebrows raised as she looked from one of us to the other. Olivia picked up her wine glass, flashed me a smile before she left Mellie and me alone. Mellie stared at me. "What exactly is going on?"

It was the second time I had heard that question that night and didn't have an answer that would properly explain what was going on. Hoping she'd leave it alone, I replied, "She's having a really rough night."

"So I see. And why are _you_ tending to her instead of her boyfriend?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I always do. And he's too big a part of the problem to be part of the solution right now."

"Well she's a big girl. She should be able to cope independently."

I blinked at her. "She's my best friend, Mel. Don't get involved."

"Don't get involved?" Her yelling told me this wasn't about a hug.

"Yeah, don't," I replied, my voice even. She needed to take a step back.

She opened her mouth to yell then stopped, taking a deep breath instead. "We'll talk about this later."

"Fine." We ate dinner in near complete silence then decided to end the evening early. When everyone was gone, I helped Mellie load the dishwasher in tense silence. I could hear ice cracking.

She finally asked, "Why didn't you say it back?"

We had reached the center of the labyrinth. I replied, "It caught me off guard, Mel."

"Because you were with her?" she asked, pausing with a plate in her hand to look at me. I wondered if she was a dish-thrower like Liv. I guessed not.

"No," I answered. "It was just…sudden."

"You don't see yourself with her, Fitz," she said softly. I sighed. Even when I was trying my hardest not to show them, everyone could see my feelings. Everyone except Liv. She sighed, asked, "What does this mean?"

"Nothing. Nothing happened. Nothing's happening." I stuffed my hands in my pockets. "I'm gonna go. Goodnight, Mel."

I paused with my key in the lock on my door, frowning at the sound of rhythmic thumping. I looked around, trying to locate the sound. I frowned even harder when I realized the sound was coming from Olivia's place. Apparently she and Edison had made up. I sighed as I unlocked my door and went inside. I watched TV with the volume up loud enough to drown out the thumping. I had a few beers. The thumping didn't show any signs of stopping. I finally pulled out my phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello," she sounded like she was asleep.

"Hey. Can you come over?" I asked.

There was a brief hesitation. "Yeah…I'll see you in a bit."

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I put down my beer and went to answer it. Mellie stared at me with red-rimmed unsure eyes. I sighed, "I'm sorry about earlier, Mel."

"Me too," she replied. I wondered what she was sorry about. Truthfully, she hadn't done anything. I nodded and she handed me her overnight bag. I took it, stepping back to let her in. I turned off the TV and followed her into my bedroom. She undressed in silence, her porcelain skin almost aglow in the moonlight pouring through the open blinds. Flashes of Olivia—her luminescent skin, her delicately boned back, her supple flesh flimsily covered with scads of silk and lace—flooded my mind. I advancing on Mellie, insisted my mind stay in the present.

I was awakened the next morning by the smell of coffee and bacon. Mellie stood in my kitchen, wearing my button down while she scrambled eggs.

"Morning," I said, kissing her cheek. She smelled like my soap and shampoo. I wondered how long she'd been awake.

"Good morning." She grinned at me. "You need a blow dryer honey."

"I'm an air dry man. Blow dryers give me an afro." I poured myself a mug of coffee. Someone knocked at the door and I knew it was Olivia. I looked at the clock on the stove. 9:37 AM. I guessed that Edison had finally left. Or she was coming over to borrow groceries to make him breakfast.

"Will you put some milk in this?" I asked Mellie as I walked to the door, leaving my mug on the counter.

Olivia smiled at me when I opened the door. She was certainly in a better mood than she had been the last time she'd knocked on my door. "Morning!"

I gave a half-smile as I leaned against the doorframe. "I take it from your smile that the lake is frozen solid then."

"It's getting there," she replied, still smiling. "Wanna get some breakfast?"

"Mellie's making me breakfast," I replied.

Her smile twitched. "Oh…well then I'll just pop by later."

"Actually, we're going to the farmer's market later and that could be a while," I answered.

"Oh," she said, her smile falling. She smirked at me. "I think your girlfriend is trying to steal you away from me."

"Fitz? Your food is getting cold." Mellie appeared at my side. She looked from me to Olivia. "Oh. Hi, Liv."

"Morning Mellie." Her smile was a little lopsided. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought she was jealous. She gave me a tight smile. "See you later, Fitz."

I hated the farmer's market. It was too hot and humid, and there were too many people. I frowned as Mellie pulled me along, chattering incessantly. My mind was on Olivia. She had seemed jealous and even a little hurt when I'd blown her off. I hated hurting her feelings. I hated listening to Mellie chatter.

It was dark when we got back to my apartment. Mellie had insisted we go to Bed, Bath, and Beyond to pick out new sheets to replace my "scratchy" ones. Then she wanted to have dinner at a little Italian place on the other side of town. I hated Italian, and I didn't want to fight Friday evening traffic there and back, but I went along. I made myself enjoy her company. I pushed Olivia's face and her words into a back corner of my mind.

There was shouting coming from Olivia's apartment when we got back. Apparently the ice had splintered again. Something crashed and I thought with a smirk that she was going to run out of dishes if they kept fighting that way.

"You staying over?" I asked Mellie with a smile, hoping she would. I needed a distraction.

"If you want me to," she replied. Something else crashed followed by Olivia shrieking. Mellie remarked that Olivia was a "pistol." I agreed with a smile that didn't match the intention with which she'd made the comment. I turned on some music to drown out the shouting, and took a shower, trying not to think of Olivia across the hall. When I got out, Mellie had just finished putting the sheets on the bed. They were navy blue and impossibly soft against my skin when she pulled me down onto them. I fought tooth and nail to keep thinking about her.

A loud knock startled me awake around 2AM and I sat up, almost throwing Mellie off the bed. She squinted in the darkness as she moved to let me out of bed. I searched the room for pajama pants. I finally found them, thrown over a chair, and pulled them on as I stumbled through my dark apartment. There was only one person who would be at my door at 2 in the morning.

Olivia stood on the other side, sure enough. She had been crying. She whispered, "The lake shattered."

I opened my arms for her but she didn't move, just raised a hand to her mouth as her face crumpled. She was sobbing instantly. I finally reached for her, pulling her into my arms. She cried like she had just watched her whole world come undone before her eyes. I half-dragged her to the couch. Her legs seemed to have lost their ability to function.

"He said we weren't the fighting anymore," she whimpered.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. She lay her head in my lap. I had never seen her so broken.

"Did I wake you?" she asked softly.

"Yeah; it's fine. Who needs sleep?" I smiled when she yawned a few seconds later. I pulled the blanket off the back of the couch onto her body. "Apparently you do."

"You're so lame." She smiled at me. It didn't stay on her face long. "We had made up. We were fine. Then he said something about bringing me a Princeton t-shirt to sleep in so I could give you back all your Georgetown stuff and I snapped. We were going at it for hours before he stopped and said we weren't the fighting anymore. Then he left."

"If he didn't think _you_ were worth fighting for then he's crazy Liv," I said, surprising myself with my honesty.

She rolled onto her back and smiled at me. "At least I got a pair of Louboutins out of it."

"Not a bad parting gift," she replied. She laughed and I knew she would be okay. We talked a little more before she drifted off to sleep. I fell asleep too at some point. Mellie shook me awake at 5 AM.

"Isn't this a nice sight?" she sniped loudly. I glanced at Olivia. She was still asleep. I gently lifted her head and placed a throw pillow under it as I got up. I walked past Mellie into my bedroom. She came a moment later and closed the door. She asked, "What are you doing, Fitz?"

"Edison broke up with her. She's not taking it well," I replied.

She blinked. "That doesn't answer the question."

"Where else could she go?" I asked. "Where else _would_ she go? I'm her best friend."

"She's in love with you," Mellie declared.

I blinked. How she had gotten that it was Olivia who was in love and not me when I was clearly the one with the stars in my eyes was a testament to her determination to make our relationship work. I replied, "She's not."

"You don't see what I see," she snapped as she stepped into her flip flops, throwing her clothes into her bag.

"Because it's not there," I replied.

"Let's take some time apart," she finally said.

"Okay." I didn't move, just stood and listened to her leave. I wondered how long the time would be.

When I went back into the living room, Olivia wasn't on the couch. I checked the bathroom but she wasn't there either. I went to her door and knocked.

"Liv?" I called.

"Go home, Fitz. I need to be alone," she called back. She didn't sound like she was crying but she didn't sound like she was okay wither.

"Are you sure?" I leaned against her door, my forehead on the cool wood.

"Yeah…I'll see you later."

* * *

It was four days later when I saw her again. She hadn't sought me out so I kept myself busy, subbed a few classes for Cyrus so he and James could go to the beach. She hadn't slept or eaten much apparently. She looked so tiny and helpless in my old favorite black t-shirt that I ached to hold her. She sighed as she dropped a cardboard box next to her door.

"Hi," she said, looking at me with tired eyes.

"Hi," I replied. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her face until I saw it again.

"Heard from Mellie?" she asked. She must have heard us arguing.

"We're gonna take a step back but we've talked a bit." She nodded. "Want some coffee? Or maybe a solid meal? You look a POW."

She flashed the most fleeting of smiles. I hated Edison for taking her laugh from her. "I'm actually waiting for Edison to come get his stuff and bring me mine, but I'll come over after that."

"So it's really over?" She nodded, bit her bottom lip. She seemed so fragile, a baby bird with a broken wing. I looked away from her, feeling her hurt. I wanted to hold her so badly that my hands ached. My feet couldn't move. If I touched her, everything would spill out and I didn't want that. She wasn't in a good place for it and I didn't want to be a rebound. "I'm sorry Liv."

"Me too," she replied. The elevator dinged and we both looked up to see Edison coming down the hall with a box in his arms. He looked tired but not as bad as Olivia. I didn't pity him. He had given up paradise. I stepped back into my apartment and shut the door. I heard them talking in the hallway. I turned on the TV to drown them out. About half an hour later, the screaming started. I sighed and turned the TV up, wondering what our neighbors thought of the frequent screaming matches. No one had called the police, so I assumed they all tried to ignore it the way I did.

I thought of showing up at Mellie's place unannounced. She would have forgiven me, but I couldn't be bothered with that—not when Olivia would need me when Edison left. It was four hours later when I heard her door slam and heavy footsteps in the hallway. She never came over but I didn't go to her. I couldn't see her so broken, so helpless.

It was about 11 when she knocked on the door. I let her in and neither of us spoke. She was all talked out. She lay on my couch, curling in the fetal position. I wondered when we'd both become so broken and hollow. I covered her with a blanket, tucking it around her little body. I leaned down and kissed her temple. She smiled weakly then closed her eyes. I went into my bedroom and lay down, staring at the ceiling, wondering what to do for her. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I rolled over and opened my eyes when I nudged something. Olivia, beautifully asleep, lay next to me, her breathing even. I pulled the blanket up on her bare legs. She rolled over, facing me. I held my breath. She didn't stir. I reached out and pushed her hair back. I fell back asleep, wondering when she'd joined me.

A weight on my chest woke me a little later. I squinted in the darkness for a bit before I realized it was Olivia straddling me. It was a dream. It had to be. There was no way Olivia could be doing this. I closed my eyes. Her lips on mine opened them again. Her kisses were needy, feverish. She bit my bottom lip. My hands found her warm flesh under her t-shirt. She gasped when I squeezed her breasts. She didn't protest when I rolled her onto her back. She sat up so I could slip her t-shirt off. She lifted her hips, helped me take off her cotton boy shorts. She looked at me look at her, gloriously naked. I swallowed hard as I stiffened against her thigh. She sat up and reached for the waistband of my boxers, pulling them down. Her hands moved urgently, one taking hold of me as the other pulled my mouth back to hers. She slipped her tongue into my mouth, coaxing mine into her mouth. She gasped when I moved my mouth to her neck. I sucked on her soft flesh, eliciting small tremors from her body. I reached between her legs, my fingers exploring her slick folds. She gasped, her back arching as I teased the bundle of nerves clustered there. I covered her mouth with mine, swallowing her moans as I entered her, her fingernails creating half-moons on my shoulders. My eyes closed. It was a feeling I had dreamt of since the moment I saw her. Everything went white then black as I moved inside her. Her moans were gentle and breathy, her lips against my ear. I bit her neck. Her core clenched tighter around me.

She cried out when I entered her from behind, her knees threatening to buckle. I knotted my hand in her hair. She pushed back, urging me deeper. I had always imagined she talked during sex but she didn't seem able to utter a syllable at that moment. My hand slipped around her thigh into the valley waiting there. She mewled softly, pushed back harder. I let go of her hair and grabbed her left hip, matching her thrusts with my own. Her pants turned into whispers then guttural groans, _yes_ leaping from her lips over and over. I pulled her head back, sucked on her neck, branded her like cattle. Her cries became frenzied as her body trembled. My heart hammered, blood roaring in my ears. She smashed her lips into mine, her teeth nipping at my bottom lip. I sucked on her tongue, trailed hot kisses up her jawline, bit her earlobe. She shook violently, her cries desperate. Fire burned in the pit of my stomach. So close… Her body tensed and she was beautifully frozen for a moment, her eyes closed, her mouth open in a silent scream. She gasped back to life, whimpering _yes_ over and over as she died a thousand beautiful little deaths. So close… There was a moment of unbearable tension—bordering on pain—before the levies broke and my fingertips created small constellations of bruises on her hips. I saw heaven and hell then total blackness. Her body sagged beneath mine and I collapsed on top of her. After our breathing returned to normal, which may have been minutes or even hours later, I found her t-shirt and my boxers. We dressed in silence.

"Fitz…" she whispered, her eyes soft and wide.

"I know," I replied. I knew. She needed to feel better, wanted, like someone who hadn't been told they weren't worth it. I had done that. I didn't want to hear the truth from her mouth, not just yet. I lay on my back and she cuddled into the nook between my body and right arm, her head on my chest. She fit perfectly, like she was made to be there. Mellie was about five inches taller than her and it made our cuddling awkward. I had never dated someone so close to my own height. We both fell asleep. I didn't dream. I didn't need to. Everything I wanted was right there.


	5. FAQs

**Regarding some of the concerns in the reviews:  
**

**1. Olivia and Fitz are kind of a mess, both personally and together. They're just kind of making it as best they can. They're like all of us. They don't mean any harm but shit happens and people get hurt. There's also an ironic lack of communication between them. They talk everyday but never about the elephant in the corner.  
**

**2. Olivia and Fitz have been everything to each other **_**except **_**sexual partners so they're level of comfort is a little odd. They're too close for friends but not close enough for a relationship. They're used to hanging out with each other whenever they want, so the whole popping up at all times of night thing isn't meant as a disrespect to their significant others. It's just that they are each other's comfort zone, so when they're hurting, they go to each other. **

**3. Olivia meant Edison no disrespect. She didn't consciously choose Fitz over him the night Fitz and Quinn broke up. It's just that Fitz has been there for her forever and that kind of intimacy (oddly cemented without physical contact) doesn't turn on and off. **

**4. Fitz doesn't mean Mellie any disrespect. He's been in love with Olivia since the day he met her. Mellie can't touch that no matter how hard she tries. When Olivia's around, he's admitted to having stars in his eyes, and those stars blind him to everything else. He shouldn't be with Mellie given his feelings for Olivia but he doesn't know how to cope because he can't tell her how he feels and he's not used to that kind of lack of confidence so he assures himself by dating women who kind of fall for him immediately.  
**

**5. Fitz was biased against Edison but not in a personal way. He loves Olivia and he wants to be with her. Edison is the first guy she's gotten serious with since they graduated college. Being serious in college means one thing. Being serious as an adult means something entirely different. Fitz had a hard time adjusting to the difference. Also, Edison wasn't a big fan of Fitz, mostly because he knew about or at least suspected Fitz had feelings for Olivia, but also because boyfriends are rarely—if ever—completely cool with their girlfriends having male friends. There was a lot of mistrust on both sides. **

**6. Olivia is not oblivious to Fitz's feelings in the sense that she's blind to the way he acts around her. She's gotten used to him being that way with her and therefore doesn't see it the way everyone else does. It also doesn't help that Fitz keeps getting girlfriends. As stated in the first chapter, he has no problem getting women. He just doesn't think he's good enough for Olivia to make a play for her yet, so he settles. **


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: So this update is coming a little later than I had anticipated but I struggled with the morning after. I wanted it to be messy but not so much that I gave away too much. I wanted to add a little more Olitz smut but that didn't make the final cut unfortunately. Still, there's a good bit of mess to keep y'all entertained. I would love to hear what you guys think. Please don't hold back in the reviews! XOXO**

When I woke up the next morning, Olivia was gone. I yawned as I got out of bed. I used the bathroom, wondering where she was. I found her in the kitchen, spreading jelly on toast.

"Want some toast?" she asked, offering me a piece. "I would've made you an actual breakfast but you don't have any food. _So_ irresponsible, Fitz."

I smiled at her smile. It was nice to see her lively again. "Big talk coming from someone whose idea of grocery shopping is hitting Target's wine section."

"So I guess that means we're going out for breakfast?" she asked as she munched on the toast.

"I suppose we have to since you're hogging the toast," I answered. I wondered if she would say anything about last night, or if I would have to be the one to bring it up. She smirked at me as she chewed the last piece of toast. It appeared she wasn't planning to. I met her at the door, leaning against it. "Liv…"

"I'm sorry about last night," she blurted. A knot formed in my stomach. "I didn't mean to…"

My heart sank when I realized she regretted it. She hadn't felt it the way I had. She reached up and cupped my face in her hand, her thumb brushing my cheek. I frowned at the mixed signals. Her eyes were earnest. "You mean the world to me and I… It shouldn't have happened that way."

"How should it have happened?" I asked, my mind churning.

"Not like that. You're always so good to me and I…" She dissolved into tears. I wasn't sure what to think. I wondered if she _had_ felt what I'd felt, or if she was just hurting and confused. There was no way to tell. It was too new, too raw.

If it happened like this, if she confessed feelings right then, I would never trust it. I didn't want to be a band-aid. I wanted it to be the real thing or nothing at all. I pulled her into a hug. "Liv, stop. Please. I hate when you cry."

"You just don't understand," she whimpered. She took a few deep breaths.

I stared into her eyes. "Make me understand."

She stared back, her expression a mixture between angst and something else, something unreadable. She half-whispered, "I can't. Not yet."

"Let's just go eat," I replied. Her bottom lip quivered. She went to her apartment and I sighed ass I leaned against the door. I had hurt her feelings. I was just so confused, and I knew what I wanted to say, but she was less than 24 hours out of her first serious relationship in years and I couldn't do that to either of us.

I got in the shower and let the water run over my head. I closed my eyes and tried to make sense of everything. I wanted Olivia, and I was poised to have her if I played my cards right. But I didn't want to play some game with her feelings to get her I didn't want to get her because she was broken and I was trying to put her pieces back together. I wanted her to choose me because she loved me as much as I loved her. I got out and dressed absentmindedly, unable to think about anything except how to fix things with Olivia in a way that I could live with. I pulled out my phone and called Cyrus.

"What's wrong?" he asked when I picked up. "And by 'what's wrong' I mean someone better be dead if you're calling me before noon on a Sunday. "

"I slept with Liv," I answered.

"Hot damn! It's about time!" he whooped.

"She had just gotten dumped. She came over. She was asleep on the couch. I woke up and she was in my bed. I went back to sleep. I woke up again and she was on top of me. Then this morning, she starts going on about how I mean so much to her, and how it shouldn't have happened that way. So I asked how it should have happened, and she said not like that and that I didn't understand. I told her to make me understand. She said she couldn't, not yet anyway. I just told her I wanted to get some breakfast because I can't make sense of this."

"Well," he sighed, "either she's got it as bad for you as you do for her, or she doesn't have feelings for you and she did a selfish thing and now she's sparing your feelings. But (sigh) I'm leaning more towards the former. If there weren't more feelings to it than she's letting on, she would be giving you a major cold shoulder. But she isn't. I don't know much about how women act after sex—a lack of knowledge for which I'm thankful every day—but it's been my experience with hookups that you don't linger unless you felt something."

"So should I say something?"

"If she wasn't so recently post-breakup, I would say yes. But she is, so you should give it a little time. You don't want to be a rebound."

"But I don't want to miss my shot either, Cy."

He laughed. I wondered what was funny. "Fitz, you two have the kind of connection I can only hope to find. I'm no hopeless romantic by any stretch of the imagination, but this isn't the end of whatever you two are doing by far."

"So I should wait?"

"Let her heal. When it's time, nothing in the world will stop it."

I smiled. "I hope so, Cy."

"Now, I'm going back to sleep. Please don't involve me in any more of your vagina problems. That's not really my department," he replied. We hung up and I wondered what Olivia was thinking.

"Let's get a move on, Fitzgerald!" Olivia called from the living room. I smiled. She seemed to be herself again. I got up and grabbed my keys off the dresser then went to the living room. She was leaning against the couch, unbelievable beautiful in a slouchy white t-shirt and American flag patterned short shorts. Her hair was wet and wavy, pushed back by her sunglasses.

"Don't rush me woman," I teased.

"I haven't eaten in like a week. Forgive me if I'm a little hungry," she shot back as we walked out the door.

* * *

In the week that followed that night, I watched her come back to life. The light came back into her eyes brighter than ever. We stayed up all night watching movie adaptations of books, and debating the pros and cons of each, and I felt myself falling even harder for her. Honestly, I had never loved her more. She hadn't changed the way she behaved around me, and I was thankful for that. But her eyes took on a softness I had never experienced when she looked at me. I remembered Cyrus's advice and held my tongue, hoping that the "right" time would come sooner rather than later. The words were permanently in the back of my throat, ready to leap onto my lips at any given moment.

* * *

"I'm thinking of throwing another dinner party," Mellie said when I answered her phone call.

"Yeah?" That was probably the worst thing in the world that she could do. I also thought it was odd that we had agreed to take time apart but now she wanted to get together like nothing had happened. She was determined if nothing else.

"Yeah. It'll be fun, kind of a do-over and a way to pick up where we left off all at once." I tried to think of a good way to tell her that it was a terrible idea. "I've missed you, Fitz…"

I hadn't missed her but I felt guilty. She wasn't a bad person. I was the cheater. I was the one who had been with someone else while she was apparently thinking of me. I felt like I owed her. I finally said, "Sounds good, Mel."

"So I'll send out invitations?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure. We'll be there," I answered. We hung up and I left my office, headed for Liv's bakery a few blocks over. It was full of people, college kids mostly, dressed in pajamas and ordering intricate $5 lattes while they gorged on Olivia's sweets. I grabbed a red velvet cupcake from behind the counter as I headed for her office, greeting the two grad students who worked for Liv as I did.

She sat behind her desk, drinking coffee from a huge cup while she filled out invoices. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a loose coil, half-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She wore a black shift dress and I could see the heels of her new Louboutins peeking from under the desk. I knocked on her open door. She looked up and smiled at me. I almost forgot why I'd come.

"Mellie wants to throw another dinner party," I announced sullenly as I sat down. Her office looked a lot like her: fun but sophisticated. A picture of me, Abby, Cyrus, and her from last Thanksgiving sat on her desk. We were the only family she had really.

She took off her glasses and gave me a knowing look as I ate my cupcake. "You feel guilty and you said we'd come."

"I hate when you do that," I replied. She knew me too well. I sighed. "If you don't wanna go, we don't have to. I'll just cancel."

She sat quietly for a long moment, her eyes dark like she was conflicted. She leaned back in her chair. "I guess we're going."

I walked around her desk and sat on the edge next to her. I sipped her coffee as I finished my cupcake. She smiled softly at me. I wanted to kiss her. Instead, I reached out and removed the pin holding her hair in the knot. It fell around her face. I ran my fingers through it, enjoying its silky softness. She scooted close, letting me rub her scalp. I was apologizing for what I'd done to her, to Mellie, to myself. She was accepting it the way she always did, without judgment or malice.

I murmured. "It's gonna suck."

"Baby, life sucks." She laughed and I did too.

* * *

Mellie's smile twitched when she opened the door and found me standing next to Olivia. "Hi Fitz…Liv."

"Hey Mel," I replied. She stepped back to let us in.

"Hi Mellie," Olivia said. They grinned politely but coldly at each other. Luckily Cyrus and James were right behind us so we were spared an awkwardness.

"Olivia your _dress_! I'm _dying_!" James squealed. He loved Olivia, hailing her as some kind of fashion maven. I was surprised when Cyrus complimented her too. He wasn't big on fashion. I guessed James was changing him. He seemed lighter, much happier. Olivia wore a figure-hugging black dress with a square neckline. I found myself fixated on the smooth skin of her thighs. She smiled at James as they chattered about clothes and made plans to go shopping. Cyrus sat next to me on the arm of the overstuffed chair perpendicular to the couch where James was showing Olivia his new Prada loafers and asking her opinion on whether or not he should buy the black ones too.

Cyrus nudged me. "You okay?"

"Have you ever seen the sky before a tornado?" I asked. "It's calm, too calm. It's light but not bright and there's this deathly silence to everything because all the animals are gone. It's the most terrifying thing in the world. That's how I'm doing."

"I'm sorry I asked," he replied with a laugh.

"Fitz can you come here a minute?" Mellie asked, her head sticking out of the kitchen doorway. Cyrus made a quiet tornado warning siren noise and I threw him a look.

"Have you missed me?" she asked as soon as the door swung shut. I nodded, unable to voice the lie. She stopping putting jambalaya in bowls and leaned against the counter to look at me.

"Is there fish in that?" I asked, pointing at the bowl. I hoped she hadn't forgotten Liv's allergy.

"No. Just lean chicken and steamed vegetables. I'm trying a new diet," she answered. "Why?"

"Well Liv's allergic to seafood and I wanted to make sure you hadn't forgotten," I answered. She frowned at me. I heard ice cracking. She wore a yellow shift dress, the sleeves and hem scalloped. I recognized it immediately from J. Crew. Olivia owned it in yellow, and black, red, and blue too. It was cute on Olivia's little body. Mellie seemed too tall for it.

She blinked at me. "How have you been?"

"Good. Busy," I answered. "I've been getting ready to classes to start back in a few weeks, and subbing for a few people trying to take last minute vacations. How have you been?"

"Okay I guess. Just wondering about you. You haven't called." She looked dejected, like I wouldn't push her on the swing at recess. I liked her, but she had showed up at the wrong time. If I'd met her a few years ago, when I was still in denial about my feelings for Olivia and desperate for a girlfriend who could monopolize my time, we would have worked perfectly. But now, it was no use. She was a faint star. Olivia was the sun.

"I thought we were taking a little time to sort stuff out and do our own thing." She had been texting and calling every other day since we agreed to take a break and I had been replying in the briefest answers, thinking that she didn't understand the concept of a break. She just nodded. I didn't know what she was thinking. I heard the tornado siren.

"Well dinner's ready." She went back to filling bowls. "Will you open the wine?"

"Uh…sure." I took the bottles into the other room and opened them so I didn't have to be alone with her in a room with so many knives.

We sat down to eat. Mellie took the chair across from me, presumably so we had nothing to look at except each other. Olivia took the seat at the head of the table between Mellie and me. Cyrus sat next to me, making the siren noise again as he glanced at Mellie's not so subtle appraising stare focused on Olivia. Liv didn't seem to be aware as she typed away on her phone. James sat next to Mellie, complimenting her on the wine. That was another thing he and Olivia shared: they were both winos. Mellie prattled endlessly about the jambalaya. Cyrus ate slowly, staring down into the bowl to see what was what. James took impossibly small bites which he carefully examined first. Olivia stirred it around, staring into it curiously.

"Mellie is there seafood in this?" she asked as she squinted at the mush. It smelled good but I couldn't bring myself to bite it. Mellie wasn't a bad cook but it looked like someone had eaten it already then changed their mind.

"No. It's just chicken," she replied. "You don't have to worry. Fitz already checked."

Her last sentence came out like an accusation. Olivia sipped her wine. James looked away uncomfortably, then pulled out his phone. Luckily, Cyrus came to my rescue. "Mellie, what is this?"

"It's jambalaya. I should have mentioned that. I'm French Cajun on my mother's side and we used to eat it all the time when I was growing up in Baton Rouge," she said proudly.

He turned to me. I could see from his expression that he wanted to rip Mellie's lips off. "Fitz didn't you and Liv go to New Orleans one year?"

"Yeah, we went to Mardi Gras my junior year of grad school." I smiled at the memory of Olivia drunk and dancing in the streets. I nudged Olivia with my elbow. "Remembered those drag queens who threw that roof party?"

She laughed. "They still send me Christmas cards!"

We had encountered a troupe of drag queens at a bar and they had taken us to their apartment building for the best luau party I had ever been to. Olivia and I drank endless margaritas and they coaxed us into going with them to get tattoos. I got my fraternity letters on my shoulder. Olivia got a heart behind her ear.

"They had the most gorgeous tans! Meanwhile, I went to the beach and came back a lobster," Cyrus remarked.

"Oh I don't tan either," Mellie replied. I remembered Olivia's tan, and her triangular tan lines from her bikini. "I've never been to Mardi Gras. We should go next year, Fitz."

"Maybe." I sipped my wine, wished we had something stronger. I couldn't stop thinking of Olivia dancing to reggae music in a tiny white bikini on the roof of the drag queens' apartment building. Mellie and I weren't going to Mardi Gras. We weren't going anywhere. "It's been years. I'm old now."

The rest of dinner went well. I was even at ease. Even Mellie seemed to be having a good time. It was better than the first one, but I was having a different kind of good time. I was having the kind of good time you had on the last night of vacation, fun tempered with the realization that it was the end. Mellie and I were so over we needed a new word for over. I couldn't stop looking at Olivia and I knew that even if Mellie and I stayed together for the next twenty years, I would never find myself staring at her for no reason.

Mellie had bought a cake from Olivia's bakery of all places for dessert. I wondered what that meant. Olivia declined a piece. She never ate anything she baked because she had always had a sweet tooth and didn't trust herself to stop with just one piece. Mellie gave her a crooked smile. I took a huge piece. Olivia never ate her own goods, but I couldn't get enough of them.

"Liv, seriously, eat some," I said, holding the fork out to her. She smiled as she shook her head.

"I know what red velvet cake tastes like," she replied.

"Eat it," I insisted. She wanted to. She loved sweets despite the rarity of her indulgence. "Just a bite. Come on."

It wasn't until Olivia's lips were on my fork that I realized how we must have looked. Mellie's eyes burned a hole in my face. She stared at me with stony eyes. I had to break up with her. It wasn't fair to hurt her when I could just set her free.

Luckily, the evening ended shortly after. Mellie asked me to stay for a bit. Cyrus assured me he would get Olivia home. When they left, Mellie shut the door and left the room without a word. I was reluctant to go into the kitchen with her. She was radiating an almost murderous rage.

"Have you been with her?" she asked as she loaded the dishwasher. "Is that why you haven't been calling?"

"I've been working, Mel. Yes, I've been with Liv too, but that's not why I haven't been calling. You wanted time apart. I was giving it to you." I sighed. I felt like a terrible person. I had broken up Olivia and Edison—inadvertently of course—and now I was at the center of another relationship implosion.

"I thought about breaking it off when you didn't call after a week. Your texts were polite at best. But I didn't want to give up on you." I remembered Quinn having similar reasons for hanging around. I wondered what it was that held them. I was never fully there, and they seemed to find some charm in my aloofness. It didn't make any sense. "I wanted us to make it, Fitz. I wanted laughs and memories and inside jokes and a million stories. I wanted us to be like—"

"Like Liv and me," I replied when it became clear that that was what she meant but she couldn't bring herself to say it.

"She looks at you like you've hung the moon just for her and you eat it up. I give you the same look and you don't even see it because you're too busy staring at her. I can't compete with that!" She held a plate too tightly, her knuckles white. I was glad for the space between us in case she decided to hurl it at me. "Why not me, Fitz? Just tell me that! Why _not_ me? Am I not beautiful enough? Or smart enough? Or funny enough? _Why not me_?"

I raked my hand through my hair. She deserved the truth at least. I had broken her heart and she deserved to know why. "You're not her. I try to fight it, but I love her. I can't help myself. At another time, you and I would have been perfect. I'm sorry. I should never have talked to you, or slept with you, or let this go on for as long as it did. I'm sorry, really. You can hate me. You _should_ hate me. I'm a shitty person for all this."

She blinked at me a few times like she had been expecting something completely different. I wondered if she was crazy. She finally said, "You should go."

I nodded and left. I heard the plate shatter when I shut the door. I stared at the elevator's mirrored ceiling. I turned the radio up loud in the car. I half-listened to some pop song before the familiar strumming of a guitar made my breath hitch. It was Olivia's favorite song: "Tired of You" by the Foo Fighters. I could picture her singing along to it while she cooked or cleaned or worked in her office. It amazed that I wasn't even ten minutes out of a relationship and my mind was already back on her. Honestly, it never left her.

When I got home, I hesitated at my door. I wanted to go to Olivia, but I couldn't. Not yet. I went inside and showered the evening off me. I wondered when I had become one of those people who contemplated life in the shower. I stayed under the water for a while, wondering what she was doing, if she was wondering where I was—or just thinking about me the way I was thinking about her. I remembered what Cyrus had said about us and our connection. He seemed to have a sixth sense about matters of the heart despite his lack of experience in the area, so I hoped he was pulling more from intuition than just his desire for us to be together.

I finally got out when the water turned cold and dried off. I put on pajamas and lay on my bed. I was so tired, tired or seeing her every day and not kissing her, tired of holding it in, tired of being tired. I decided then and there if I ever worked up the courage to tell her, I would never stop telling her. I would kiss her until it felt weird to not be kissing her. I would pick her up and spin her around in the middle of the street so everyone would know I felt like I was the luckiest man in the world. I would let her have control of the remote even though I hated all the shows she liked. I would let her leave the window open at night even though I hated the breeze. She would never question my feelings if I ever got the chance to show them. I rolled out of bed and went to her place. I opened it quietly. The kitchen light was still on so I knew she wasn't asleep yet.

"Liv?" I called.

"I'm in my room," she called back. I trudged to her bedroom. The walls were navy and white chevron print that we had painted the day she moved in. A quote in beautiful script that she had painted by hand sprawled above her bed: _Let her sleep. For when she wakes, she will move mountains._ The room honestly looked like it could have belonged to a little girl, but there was something eternally youthful about Liv that made it work. She sat up in her favorite red butterfly chair reading under a lamp, for once wearing her own pajamas. They were lavender silk, dark purple lace bordering the spaghetti strap tank top's v-neck and the leg holes of the little shorts. She looked at me over the top of her glasses and smirked.

"Well you look _cheery_," she remarked. I shrugged as I lay on her white carpeted floor near the chair.

I sighed. "I broke it off. She wasn't going to do it and I just couldn't fake it anymore. I feel like shit."

"You're allowed to be lonely, Fitz." She closed the book—Edith Wharton's _The Age of Innocence_—and stared at me. "You didn't mean her any harm."

She always believed the best of me, no matter how badly I had fucked up. I didn't mean to hurt Mellie but I didn't do anything to stop it. She stood and put the book and her glasses in the chair. She turned off the lamp then walked to where her TV hung on the wall and tuned it on. I stood up and watched her climb into her bed. She flipped until she found the channel _Friends_ played on every night then looked at me as I stood. She scooted to the side of her bed closest to the wall, right below the open window, and pulled the covers back, giving me a small smile. I climbed into her bed, keeping my pajama pants on even though I didn't normally sleep in them. I didn't want her to think I expected anything because of what had happened the last time we'd shared a bed. The sheets smelled like her detergent and the pillow like her shampoo. I yawned. I had been tired but not necessarily sleepy when I came over. Now it seemed my eyelids were far too heavy. She wrapped her arm around me, her head on my chest, her thigh warm against my thin pajama pants. My arm wrapped around her instinctively. I half-watched TV, only noticing her even breathing when mine slowed to the same tempo. I fell asleep and didn't dream. It seemed I never dreamt with Olivia in my arms, maybe because I didn't need to.

"Fitz wake up!" I squinted at the blinding sunlight pouring through her window then at the clock. 8:52AM. Olivia sat up on her knees next to me, grinning like it was Christmas morning.

"What?" I yawned as I sat up.

"Wanna go to the beach?" she asked.

I blinked at her. "What?"

"Wanna go to the beach?" she repeated. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. "It's just that we've both been having such a shitty time lately, and your classes are gonna start back soon which means the bakery's gonna be swamped too, and I was just thinking that a week at Myrtle Beach would be the perfect way to shake off all the crap we've been dragging around. It'll be just like our Spring Break trips: you and me, sun and sand."

"Sunburn and sand that never seems to wash off, me holding your hair while you vomit in a club parking lot, me being so hungover that I actually pray I don't wake up." She laughed and I was sold. She got out of bed and I did too. I went to the bathroom and found her throwing bikinis in a bag when I returned. "You're probably gonna need actual clothes, Liv."

"Go get packed. I'll handle me," she shot back as she walked to her closet. I looked her over in her tiny pajamas and hoped she didn't wear anything like that to bed at the beach. It would be hard enough to be around her in a bikini without the added chore of trying to sleep with the knowledge that she was so close and so scantily clad. I went to my apartment and found my old suitcase while I dialed Cyrus's number. I was pleasantly surprised when James answered. I asked him to tell Cy I would be out of town for a week.

"Rendezvousing with _Olivia_?" he asked. I wondered how he knew it wasn't Mellie I was going away with.

"How do you know I'm going somewhere with Liv?" I asked as I threw shorts and t-shirts in the suitcase. I found my swim trunks and threw them in too.

"Because you and Mellie are so over you need a new word for over," he replied. "I'm a celebrity gossip columnist. It's my job to be perceptive."

I laughed. He asked, "So are you gonna tell her?"

"I don't know. Cy said I should wait."

"Ugh! Cyrus always wants everything all planned out and serious. _I_ think you should just tell her. I'm willing to bet good money—Prada loafer money—that she says it back."

I wondered what he knew that I didn't. "Has she said anything to you?"

"Not directly. I'm a reporter. I never ask direct questions. I just lead. She thinks you're the best thing since sangria; I know that much. God she gushes about you and how sweet you are all the time. It's sickening, really." He laughed like a schoolgirl. "I don't know if she's in love with you, but I bet she could very easily fall for you. Somewhere romantic…like the beach…at sunset...alone… Are you picking up these hints?"

"I hear you." I liked James. He was exactly what someone so buttoned up like Cyrus needed. "So I should just say it?"

"Make her laugh. And when her head falls back and her eyes close, take her in your arms, and when she stops, say it." It actually didn't sound like a terrible idea. "It's how Cyrus wooed me."

I didn't see Cyrus as much of a wooer, but apparently he was quite smooth. "Thanks for the advice, James."

We hung up and I took a quick shower then threw on a white t-shirt and my favorite old jeans. I finished packing, all the while mentally preparing myself to see Liv in short shorts and tiny bikinis. I hoped she got a tan like the one she got when we went on cruise to Barbados for Cyrus's birthday the year before. I had never seen her so beautiful, her skin sun-kissed from our laying on the beach for hours and talking about nothing while Cyrus cruised cabana boys. After a while, she bounced into my apartment. She was laden with bags and I wondered what all she thought she would need for a week. She was the queen of over-packing.

"I guess we're taking my car since you're apparently planning to move to the beach," I teased.

She smiled, gorgeous in her white eyelet sundress. "Whatever. Are you ready?"

I zipped my suitcase, thinking about how smooth her thighs were, and swallowed hard before I looked at her again. "Ready."

**A/N: So the next chapter is going to be messy from start to finish. There might even be a little smut thrown in. Until then, R and R please! **


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Soooooo sorry about the lateness of this update. It's been a long, slow process because I'm working out the end in my mind and I want everything to be perfect for you guys because y'all have been so sweet and patient with me. Anyway, this update is sooo messy, and the next one is even messier. I've also decided to make the upcoming chapters a little shorter so I can update faster. Please tell me what you guys think! XOXO**

We had been on the road for about two hours before Liv grew restless. She always got bored and antsy on road trips, but she was always the first to suggest them, a contradiction that I loved and hated because I was always the one who ended up driving her. She changed the radio the way she changed channels. She was so cute as she fidgeted, tweeting every other minute and shifting in her seat.

"Can we stop?" she whined.

"Yes dear," I joked. I got off an exit advertising a Target. Target meant Starbucks. Starbucks meant a content, quiet Olivia—for a little while anyway. She was vibrant and restless like a hummingbird. I was always even-tempered and pensive. I kept her safe. She kept me wild. In Target, she ordered one of those girly blended drinks with whipped cream. I got plain coffee. Smirking at her, I joked, "Maybe you should get a coloring book to keep yourself occupied."

"Fuck you," she replied, grinning as we headed for the book section. She wandered for a little while, picking up books and putting them down. She finally decided on _The Notebook_, the book based on her favorite movie of all time. I hated the movie but had seen it dozens of times. She always cried and I always sat smirking at the screen. It was a touching story but I didn't understand the obsession. I couldn't help but smile at her as she grinned at the book cover. She said, "I haven't read this in years!"

We went to the register. The cashier, a pretty redhead with hazel eyes, smiled at me while she rung up the book. Olivia sipped her drink, typing away on her phone. Her smile a little too friendly, she asked me, "Anything else?"

"No," Olivia answered, a twenty dollar bill already in her hand. The cashier looked at her like she'd forgotten Liv was there. Olivia smirked. The cashier counted out her change. Olivia took it and picked up the book then walked away. I quickly caught up to her.

"Want some popcorn?" I asked as we passed the concession counter.

She didn't even glance at it. "No."

It was her favorite snack and she never turned it down. We walked out into the sunlight and she put on her sunglasses.

"_You_ don't want popcorn? Well that's a first," I teased, nudging her. She frowned at me. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," she replied. It appeared minimal answers were all I was going to get. I unlocked the car and she got in. Her mouth was a hard line as she put on her seatbelt.

"Something's wrong. You're pissed." I put on my seatbelt and started the car.

"I'm not pissed."

"Liv…"

"Will you just drive, please?" she asked, frowning at the book. She put it down near her feet and pulled her phone out. I decided to ignore her attitude. I pulled out of the parking space and drove. I wondered if it was something to do with Edison, if he was who she was texting. My grip tightened on the steering wheel at the thought of her texting him after he had thrown her away. She stayed quiet, didn't turn on the radio, just continued typing in a stony silence.

"Are you gonna be like this the whole trip?" I asked as we stopped at a red light. I looked over at her. I hadn't been annoyed with her at first but the idea of her texting him while she was with me made me almost nauseas with jealousy.

"I'm not being like anything. I'm just quiet," she replied, her eyes still on her phone.

"You're never quiet," I pointed out. She sighed and put her phone down.

"What do you want from me, Fitz?" she asked, still frowning.

"I just wanna know what's wrong. You were fine and now you're pissed," I answered. The light turned green. I looked away from her as I hit the gas.

"That girl…" She never finished the thought. She just went back to texting. I couldn't decide if she was angry about being ignored or the cashier's silent flirting with me. It could have been either one. I was leaning more towards jealousy because of everything that had happened between us, but that provided more questions than it answered. I wondered if her jealousy stemmed from feelings for me, or if she felt disrespected, or if she was still reeling from the breakup and it just irked her that I was post-breakup too but wasn't taking it as hard. She seemed to be over Edison but knowing her like I did, I knew she had felt it a lot deeper than she'd ever let on, and that his telling her they—she, really—wasn't worth the fighting had cut her deeply.

"I'm sorry." I squeezed her hand. I didn't know what exactly I was apologizing for, but I wanted her to be her bubbly self again. She squeezed back.

She was asleep when we made it to Myrtle Beach that afternoon, curled under a black blanket like a baby, her little hand resting lightly in mine. I waited until I had found a hotel that opened onto the beach before I woke her. She shuffled sleepily into the elevator, yawning as she leaned back against the wall. When we got into our room, our bags were waiting. She yawned again as she rolled her suitcase into the room. She chose the bed closest to the balcony.

"Do you want to take a nap then get some dinner?" I asked when she yawned a third time. I sat on the other bed and watched her look at the view.

"I'm not tired," she replied. "Are you?"

"No. Just a little stiff," I answered. She heaved her suitcase onto the bed and opened it.

"I wanna hit the beach." She began pulling bikinis out of the suitcase, looking at all of them before putting them down. She picked up a little tribal print bikini top and held it up. "Can you believe I got this on sale for $30?"

"You paid $30 for that?" I smirked at her. "It's not even a whole top."

She laughed beautifully. Her mood seemed to have shifted back to happy. "You're just cheap."

I shook my head. "I have _one_ pair of trunks that I paid like $15 for that have served me well for the past 2 summers. Whereas you have like a million bikinis and you only wear half of them even though you've spent an obscene amount of money on them."

"You can never have too many bikinis," she justified as she picked out a tiny pair of hot pink bottoms. She was apparently trying to kill me. She went into the bathroom and I changed into my trunks, trying to mentally prepare myself for seeing her in something so small. I sat on the bed, waiting for her. She emerged from the bathroom a bit later and I swallowed hard.

"Cute right?" she asked as she twirled around. The stars tattooed down her spine stopped just above the dangerously low ruffled waistband of her bottoms, "bottoms" being a generous word for the tiny scrap of fabric. I blinked away from the sliver of her butt cheeks left exposed.

"I think you should call Victoria and tell her the secret's out, the secret of course being you ass." She laughed as she walked over to the bed and pulled a striped beach tote out. She threw in her phone, towel, and sunhat then held it out to me so I could put in my phone and wallet. I had to look away from her as she sat on the bed and slathered herself with sunscreen. When she was done, she held the bottle out to me. I shook my head.

She yelped when her bare feet touched the sand. I hadn't even noticed she wasn't wearing sandals. I offered, "Wanna get on my back?"

She nodded and I squatted. It was a decision I regretted immediately. I hadn't been that close to her since the night she'd crawled into my bed. Her soft flesh had a very similar effect on me as she wrapped her legs around my waist. I held her thighs as I picked her up. She wrapped her arms around my neck, rested her chin on my shoulder. I carried her to a pair of available lounge chairs and set her down on one. She laughed when I jokingly huffed and complained about my back. She let her chair down flat then rolled onto her stomach.

"Want a drink?" I asked, spying the beach bar close by.

"Yeah. There's money in my bag." I got the money and found my mouth going dry as I watched her pull her hair over onto one shoulder and untie her top. I hated when she tanned. It made her skin seem even more luminous. I always wanted to run my tongue over her tan lines. She looked up at me curiously and I remembered what I was supposed to be doing. I got a Corona for myself and a hard lemonade for her. She had folded her towel into a makeshift pillow, her sunhat pulled down over her eyes. I put the drinks on the little table between the chairs. She took the lime out of my beer and popped it into her mouth and I smirked at her.

She smiled back. "Will you put sunblock on my back?"

I didn't want to, but I didn't have a good reason not to. I went to sit on her chair. She shivered when I started rubbing it on her back. I made myself not concentrate on the smoothness and warmth of her skin. She sipped her beer and showed me funny snapchats of Abby at work. When I finished, I moved back to my own chair, my eyes on her plump bottom. We talked about nothing while we sipped our beers. We had a few more rounds before she put her bottle down then sprinted into the waves. I followed after I made myself stop staring at her shapely little frame.

In the water, she jumped onto my back, screaming when I carried her out a little deeper and shook her off. She pulled my legs out from under me, laughing when I fell next to her. We wrestled in the waves for a little while before she took off running for the shore. I gently tackled her in the sand near the chairs. We rolled around like children. She laughed beautifully, sand all over her body and in her hair. I stopped tickling her and just stared.

When her laughter subsided, she announced, "I'm starving."

"When aren't you starving?" I teased.

"You're such an asshole, " she replied, giggling like a little girl. She stood and shook the sand out of her hair. We walked to the row of outdoor showers and she surprised me by joining me under the same head. I just stood under the water watching her as she ran her fingers through her wet hair. She turned around and caught me staring. She smiled, reached out to push my soaked hair off my face.

"Where do you wanna eat?" I asked when she emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered with her hair wrapped in a towel.

"I don't care. Anywhere is fine," she answered as she pulled a seersucker sundress from her suitcase. I hated that little pink dress. It was virtually backless except for two criss-crossing straps that hooked together by a huge bow in the middle of her back. She always needed help hooking the bow.

"Well I want burgers and fries," I replied as I pulled a navy button down and coral chino shorts out of my bag. I laid them on the bed then went to take a shower. When I came out, she was blow drying her hair, her towel dangerously close to slipping off her body. _It's going to be a long week_, I thought as I got dressed.

"I don't want burgers and fries," she announced.

"Well what do you want?" I asked as I put on my old favorite dark brown Sperry topsiders.

"Not that," she answered. I smirked at her. She smiled cutely as she brushed her hair. My phone rang. It was James. I went out onto the balcony.

"Hello," I said.

"Did you tell her yet?" he asked giddily.

I laughed. "No. Is that why you called?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "Are you gonna tell her tonight?"

"Probably not," I replied, glancing back in the room. Liv had her back to me as she sat on her bed, rubbing lotion on herself. I looked away from her, shaking my head.

"Ugggghhhh," he groaned. "I need you two to get married and have fat, smushy babies."

"I can't tell her I love her. Do you really think I can manage a proposal?" He laughed. We talked a bit more before Olivia, fully dressed, knocked on the balcony door then pointed to her stomach. After I hung up, I went back inside and she turned her back to me to hook the bow on her dress. She had tanned a little, her skin luminous against the dress's pink fabric.

After I hooked the bow, my fingertips dropped to the small of her back. She stood for a few minutes, neither of us seeming to breathe, before turning around to look at me, her eyes soft. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" I asked in reply. Her lips parted, like there were words on her lips that were desperate to get out. We stood, our eyes locked, neither of us having the words for the moment. She blushed crimson, nervously brought her hand to the back of her neck. I smiled at her. She was so cute. She smiled back then went to get her purse off the dresser. I watched for a minute before getting my phone and keys off my bed. She walked close to me, our arms brushing lightly, on the way to the elevator.

When we got back from dinner, she was quiet as she pulled pajamas from her bag then went to the bathroom to change and wash her face. She had finally decided on Chinese and we had found a place in walking distance. She had walked close to me on the sidewalk, draping my arm over her bare shoulders to shield herself from the cool evening breeze. In the chilly restaurant, she had stood between my legs while we waited for a table and wrapped both my arms around her, leaning back against me. She hadn't reacted when I brushed my lips against the heart tattooed behind her right ear. We had fled the land of black and white, and now everything was bathed in shades of gray.

She came out of the bathroom wearing a light gray v-neck t-shirt style nightgown. Her hair was twisted into a messy bun on top of her head, her face washed clean. She had taken out her contacts and put on her glasses.

"Tired?" I asked, watching her as she plugged up her phone and set it on the nightstand between our beds.

"I'm starting to feel that drive," she replied as she stretched. She grabbed the remote off the dresser then sat on the end of my bed and turned on the TV. She flipped channels incessantly, sighing in annoyance when she didn't find anything good on.

"Why don't you read me the rest of that book?" I suggested.

She smiled as she went to get it off the dresser. "I thought you hated _The Notebook_."

"Just read and stop being an asshole." She stuck her tongue out at me as she climbed into my bed. As she read, I watched her lips move, longing for the way they had fluttered against mine that night. She was almost finished with the book when she gave a particularly long yawn and closed the book.

"Do you mind if I sleep with you tonight?" she asked. I wondered what it meant that she asked.

I smiled at her. "You don't have to ask."

She took her glasses off and put them on the nightstand then turned the light off. She smiled at me and I smiled back, loving her beautiful sleepy face. She scooted close then rolled on her side, turning her back to me. I wrapped my arm around her and she scooted back. She murmured, "I like sleeping with you. You're warm and you don't crowd me. Edison never gave me breathing room."

I wondered what it meant that she was bringing him up while we were spooning. "I knocked Mellie out of bed almost every time we slept together. She was always too close."

She laughed. "God she hated my guts."

I laughed too. "I'm willing to bet money she hates me more than you now."

We talked until she nodded off. I watched her sleep for a while before I fell asleep too. She didn't move all night. I didn't dream. My last thought was that every day should have ended with her in my arms.

* * *

We slept until noon then got up to go on the hotel's booze cruise. Olivia wore a fringed yellow bikini under a flimsy navy Vineyard Vines tank top with sorority letters on it and white eyelet shorts with brown flip flops. I wore a white v-neck t-shirt and navy shorts covered with little pink whales that Olivia insisted were cute. She took my blue Polo baseball cap off and put it on her own head, pulling her ponytail out of the back.

On the small yacht, headed for some tiny man-made island, she challenged me to a game of Truth or Dare or Shots—a hybrid of the game with the added option of taking shots to avoid telling the truth or doing the dare. A knot formed in my stomach.

"Truth or Dare or Shot?" she asked, grinning at me.

I knew better than to choose Dare dealing with her. "Truth."

She took off her sunglasses and leaned close, her grin becoming mischievous. "Who was better, Quinn or Mellie?"

I wanted to tell her that she was better than both of them, but I wasn't sure how she would react and I didn't want to ruin the day. I replied, "Quinn, I guess. Mellie just laid there and let me do whatever I wanted. Quinn was…kinky."

She laughed. I smirked at her. "Okay. My turn. Truth or Dare or Shot?"

"Truth," she answered almost immediately.

"Who was the best sex of your life?" I asked, curious, hoping it was me.

She sat quietly for a moment, looking at her lap, her face red. Either it was me and she didn't want to say it, or it was someone else and she didn't want to hurt my feelings. I pushed the full shot glass over to her and she looked at it but didn't take it. I sighed after a long moment. "Just take the shot, Liv."

She smiled softly at me then downed the tequila, making a face when it burned her chest. We played a few more rounds and were pretty drunk when we docked at the island. We played in the water a little then walked around the island before we got hungry. We headed to a little burger shack. The place was beyond crowded. We ended up sitting with a middle aged married couple.

I ordered a double bacon cheeseburger and onion rings. She got a single layer one and fries. I got a chocolate milkshake and she got a Diet Coke. We talked to the couple about their ranch in West Virginia and they had endless questions about Liv's bakery. After promising to mail them samples, she got up to go to the bathroom. I immediately reached for her fries. She turned back just as I was about to pick up a few and admonished, "Don't eat my fries."

We laughed as she walked away. I ate the fries anyway. The wife, a tall thin woman with a permanent smile, asked, "So how long have you two been married?"

I smiled and shook my head. "We're not married. We've been best friends for 7 years though."

"Dear, I don't know if you know, but you two are in love as sure as there's a nose on my face," she replied, reaching over to pat my hand.

I shook my head again. "I'm in love with her…but she doesn't know."

"Oh she knows," the wife replied, smiling just so. I wondered if she was right. I didn't have time to ask because Olivia appeared a moment later.

She smirked at me. "You've been eating my fries."

"I only had like four," I replied. I had probably eaten half of them without meaning to. She smiled at me, wrinkling her nose, and began eating my onion rings. I playfully smacked her hand away. "Not happening!"

"Ummmmm, happening," she replied, pulling my little plastic food basket over to her and taking the biggest onion ring. I couldn't even pretend to be mad, not when she was so cute stuffing her face. The wife gave me a knowing look when her husband nudged me the way old men did.

After sundown, we got back on the boat and she lay her head on my chest in the twilight. She yawned, sipped her water. "Today was the best. I'm glad we came."

I squeezed her shoulder. "Me too."

"We should go to a carnival tomorrow," she suggested.

"Yes dear," I replied. She laughed and I squeezed her shoulder again, pulling her closer.

She slept in my bed again when we got back to the hotel, wearing a little polka dotted romper that made me wish she had slept in her own bed. I didn't dream as I held her.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: So this is the next to last update for this story. I'm thinking about doing a sequel though. The mess is flying everywhere in this chapter and the next one is even messier. There's also gonna be a lot of feels going around so be prepared. Anyway, let me know what you think! XOXO**

It was sunny but raining the next morning when I woke up. Olivia lay beside me, the covers pulled up to her chin. I gently eased out of bed and went to the bathroom. When I came back, she had moved to the center of the bed. I smirked as I nudged her over. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She moved over and I got back in bed. She sat up, yawning, her hair a mess. She had never been more beautiful.

"It's raining," she announced, yawning again. "I guess we're not going to the carnival today."

I lay back against the pillows. She rolled onto her stomach to look at me.

I asked, "What do you want to do?"

"We could go to that big outlet mall." Her eyes sparkled at the prospect of shopping.

"I don't want to," I lied just to tease her.

"But it'll be fun," she insisted.

I sighed in feigned annoyance. "I guess. God, you're needy."

She giggled as she climbed out of bed. She ran her hand through her wild curls and stretched before going into the bathroom. I rolled out of bed and went to my suitcase. I pulled out a blue gingham button down shirt and red shorts. The shower turned on as I plugged up the iron. I smirked. She took forever in the bathroom. I opened the bathroom door, letting out a cloud of steam.

"Don't take all day," I called over the sound of the water. She poked her head around the curtain.

"Don't tell me how to live my life," she teased, sticking out her tongue at me before disappearing. I left the bathroom and ironed my shirt, thinking about the water running over her magnificent curves. About 20 minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

"Took you long enough." She stuck her tongue out at me again. I smirked at her as I finished ironing. She sat on the bed and began rubbing lotion on her arms. I swallowed hard, ironed faster. I finished and went into the bathroom to get in the shower. I was incredibly confused. Either she was teasing me, or I was so deep in the friendzone that she didn't even consider me sexually. True, she had slept with me, but that was under extenuating circumstances. I had no idea how she felt about me. I showered, trying to ignore my whirling thoughts.

She whooped like a frat boy when I walked into the room in my boxers. I smirked at her. "Would it kill you to be an adult?"

"It might. I've never tried," she replied, giggling like a child as she buttoned her a red gingham shirt not unlike my own. I turned my back to her as I got dressed. I would have given anything to wrap my arms around her and kiss the back of her neck, but I couldn't do that and twist myself into worse knots than I was in already. I needed to tell her, to just say it. But she might not feel the same, and I couldn't risk losing the one person who brought light to my life. I went into the bathroom and towel-dried my hair, stopping to splash a little water on my face. When I came back into the bedroom, she was fastening a thin brown belt around the waist of a blue polka-dotted skirt.

I smiled. We were wearing the same colors. "Why are you dressed like me?"

She stopped fussing over the bun that ironically took a long time for her to perfect for something that was supposed to be "messy" and looked me over. She smiled. She was so adorable. "We look so _cute_!"

After making me pose for an Instagram picture which she cutely captioned "Matching with my fave guy!" and headed for the mall. She let down her window, bringing in the sweet smell of freshly fallen rain, and sang along with the radio, smiling when she caught me staring.

* * *

"Pink or blue?" I looked up from my phone to see that she was holding up two pairs of scalloped shorts.

"I think you'll get more wear out of the blue ones, but the pink ones seem more your style," I answered sarcastically.

She apparently didn't pick up on the sarcasm. "Really?"

I snorted. "I don't know. Why do you even ask me stuff like that?"

She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. "Asshole…"

"Are you almost finished? Some of us don't live off Starbucks like you," I teased. We had been in J. Crew for what seemed like hours. She smiled, crinkling her nose at me.

"Ugh! You're _so_ needy!" I wanted to kiss the taste of her chai latte off her pretty mouth. We went to the register and I watched with a smile as she charged an obscene amount of money on clothes to her credit card.

"Those are nice clothes. Although you're gonna need to show a little more skin when you go out hooking to afford them," I joked.

"This is my dad's emergency card," she replied as she gathered her bags. I shook my head. She shrugged cutely. "What? I don't have any money. That's an emergency."

I laughed. "Emergency, right. You keep using that word but I don't think you know what it means."

"Words never really were my thing," she replied, laughing that beautiful way she did as we headed for the exit. "What do you want for lunch?"

"You're letting _me_ decide on lunch? It must be snowing in hell," I teased. She bumped me with her elbow as she laughed. I decided I needed to stop making her laugh so I could keep my head together.

* * *

It was still raining that night as we tried to decide on where to get dinner. I wanted burgers. She wanted pizza.

"Ooh! I have an idea!" she suddenly announced. "Let's go to a club then have Taco Bell at 2 in the morning like we used to!"

I smirked at her. "I would but it's finals week and I'm swamped."

"You ever try _not_ being a smart ass? Some people like that too." I prayed she never stopped laughing at me. "Get up and get dressed, old man."

I smiled as I shook my head, getting off my bed. I picked out a gray button down and black jeans. Olivia pulled out the black peplum dress she'd worn on her birthday. I hated that dress. It made it hard to focus on anything except the silkiness of her skin. I stepped into my black loafers, watching as she fastened the ankle straps of her Louboutins. After she put on makeup, she put her phone and lipstick in a tiny black purse. I couldn't stop looking at her.

"I'll take that slack-jawed stare as a compliment," she said with a smile. "You look good too. Maybe you'll get lucky tonight."

I laughed. "Bars _do_ seem to be my lucky place."

She rolled her eyes at me as we left. I knew that even if nothing ever happened between us, even if I never told her how I felt, nothing would ever be black and white between us again.

The club was impossibly loud, louder than any place I'd been in nearly five years. Olivia held my wrist, pulling me to the center of the dance floor. I wasn't much for dancing, but for her I did. I wasn't prepared for her to grind against me to the music, or to have to watch her when she was dancing alone. My heart flipped with relief when the DJ played a slow song and we left the dance floor. I held Olivia's hand as I cut a path to the bar. We had a couple of shots before she wanted to dance again.

"Come with me to the bathroom?" she yelled over the music. I nodded and we picked our way through the gyrating crowd. I leaned against a bare brick wall outside the ladies' room while she went, thankful that it was quieter in the small corridor than the main room. I was checking my phone when she appeared in front of me. She was pretty: tall blonde, and tan. Her eyes were the same shade of blue as mine.

"Hey. I'm Vivienne," she announced. She smelled like strong fruity perfume.

"Fitz," I replied, extending my hand. She held onto it for a moment too long.

"You're really cute. Are you from around here?" she asked. It was hard to think while breathing in her perfume. It was too sweet and too loud. Or maybe she was too close.

"No. I'm on vacation," I answered.

"Cool." She nodded, smiling flirtatiously at me. "I'm from here. Wanna go to my apartment?"

She was more forward than any woman I had ever met. Or maybe I was just old and out of place. There had been a time when I'd have agreed immediately. Before I could answer, Olivia came out of the bathroom. She stopped when she saw Vivienne standing so close. She frowned at me, but it wasn't necessarily angry. It was something else, something I couldn't name. I looked back at Vivienne. "I'm gonna pass. You shouldn't just invite random men to your apartment."

She looked shocked and a little offended then stalked away. I walked over to Olivia. She smirked. "I guess you were right about the bar being lucky for you."

I shrugged. "She just invited me to her place. Five seconds after learning my name. Just like that."

"Classy," she replied, a little edge in her voice. We danced a little more, her body so close I couldn't think straight. It was almost 3 when we left the club. The silence on the street was dizzying. I smirked when Liv remarked, "God, can you believe how loud it was in there?"

"Who's old now?" I teased as we walked to my car. She took off her pumps then tossed them onto the backseat. I drove to the Taco Bell a few blocks from the club. She hopped out of the car, still barefoot. I joked, "Taco Bell at 3 in the morning in a party dress and no shoes? I see you're 21 again."

"Well the point of tonight was to reclaim our youth." She giggled. "So I thought I'd go back to my clubbing days. All I'm missing is Abby, an embarrassingly large hickey, and some guy's number written on my arm."

"Classy." We laughed as we went into the restaurant. It had been years since we'd gorged on greasy Tex-Mex. Liv got nachos. I got tacos made with Dorito flavored shells. We both got these electric blue slushies that tasted like their main goal was to give you diabetes. We sat in a booth and she pulled her knees up so her feet weren't on the floor.

She laughed beautifully. "God, this takes me back."

"Greasy food in the wee hours of the morning after partying at some filthy club; this feels just like freshman year. Why don't you puke in the parking lot and make the memory complete?"

"Why don't you go back to the club and get that skank so it'll be _exactly_ like freshman year?" She laughed. "What was that slutty girl's name? The one you dated freshman year?"

I thought hard. "Uh… Lauren something. Lauren…Mitchell. She wasn't slutty though. She was proving a point."

"What point was that?" she asked with a silly grin.

"I have no idea. I was just glad she decided to prove it with me." We laughed. It was like college again, me hoping that if I made her laugh hard enough, she'd fall for me; and her laughing at her dopey friend.

She looked at me sweetly. "Just in case I forget to tell you, this is our best trip yet."

She was so beautiful as she smiled at me. She looked up at the sound of familiar guitar strumming on the radio. She sat up on her knees and called, "Can you turn that up?"

My smile became nostalgic at the sound of the Foo Fighters' "Tired of You," her favorite song. She was suddenly 18 again, singing it as we headed for Panama City Beach. She was so cute singing that I couldn't help but sing along. When the song was over, she collapsed into giggles. I couldn't stop smiling as I watched her. She would always be love's great martyr, and I'd be the flattered fool grateful that it was me she was graced with her laugh.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: So this is it, folks. The last update for this story. I'm going to do a sequel regardless to how the story concludes because I love this AU and these characters so much. Thanks so much for all the love and please let me know what you think.**

The next morning, Liv woke me early, apparently unfazed by the fact that we didn't get to bed until 5AM. She was wrapped in a towel, a blow dryer in her hand, so beautiful that I momentarily thought I was dreaming as she stood over me.

"I wanna play golf," she announced.

"You suck at golf," I reminded her as I sat up. She went to plug up the blow dryer. I got out of bed and went to use the bathroom. I turned the shower on and undressed, wondering why a few shots and a couple of tacos had me feeling like hell. _Shit, I'm getting old_, I thought as I got in the shower. I washed my hair then bathed. When I got out, the blow dryer was still going. I smirked. She took her sweet time with everything. I walked into the room in my boxers, my eyes fixed on her smooth tan legs. I pulled a yellow polo shirt and navy shorts out of my suitcase and got dressed. Just as I was slipping on my boat shoes, she turned off the blow dryer and went to her suitcase. She pulled out a navy blue sundress with spaghetti straps. I squinted at the pattern. The dress was covered in pineapples.

"Pineapples?" She looked down at the dress then at me. I smirked at her smile.

"I bought it yesterday. Don't you think it's cute?" She dug a camera-shaped purse out of the suitcase and began putting her things in it.

"You can't carry a purse and your clubs, Liv," I pointed out.

"Are we not gonna get one of those little guys to carry them?" she asked as she sat on the bed to put on the glitter strapped sandals she'd had on the day before.

I smiled, shaking my head. "Why do you want to do this?"

"Well, I figure it can't be that hard. My dad does it for a living," she answered cryptically. The truth was that Olivia's father hadn't exactly come to terms with the fact that Olivia wasn't a boy despite having twenty-six years to do so, and Olivia was still trying to compensate for her lack of a penis despite her constant insistence that she didn't care how he felt. I smiled at her as she pulled her hair back off her face with a headband, eternally thankful that Eli Pope hadn't gotten the boy he'd wanted. She put the purse across her body, leaving her hands free. "Cross-body. Easy fix."

"You're _really_ not dressed for golf, Livvie," I remarked as I looked her over.

"But I still look cute, right?" she asked in reply, twirling around and making the skirt of her dress flutter.

"Beautiful," I answered, grinning like a goon. Her smile softened and I could swear I saw a little color rise in her cheeks.

On the green, I discovered Olivia was possibly the worst golfer ever. She either overshot it by a mile or the ball barely made it halfway. I smiled as I shook my head, abandoning my own game to help her.

"Maybe you need lady's clubs," I offered, watching her tiny hands struggle to maintain control of her the putter.

"Maybe I'm just not the athlete dear old dad hoped for," she replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. I wanted to kiss her beautiful fingertips until she realized how perfect she was. I wrapped my arms around her, placing my hands on top of hers on the club. I almost lost track of everything as I breathed in her scent and felt her warm skin on mine.

"The key to the perfect putt is all in that split-second contact with the ball," I advised as I demonstrated. She was so magnificently close. I could have kissed her shoulder or even her lips from my proximity. I settled for breathing in her scent, my nose close enough to nuzzle her smooth mocha skin. She didn't move away, instead turning her head just enough that my lips brushed the curve of her jaw. I saw the faintest smile cross her face. I wasn't crazy. She was feeling it too. But was it me or just the feeling of being loved that she wanted? I had put her on such a high pedestal that I couldn't believe it was me she wanted. The sun envied her radiance, and flowers wilted in shame at her beauty. She could have had so much better than me. But there she was, smiling in my embrace.

We worked on her swing for an hour. Her improvement was negligible at best. Finally I took the club out of her little hands and kissed her forehead. "You suck, princess."

She shrugged cutely as she laughed. "Oh well. It won't matter to my dad unless a penis comes with the clubs."

I laughed as I put the club in the bag. "Ready to head to the carnival?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I can't wait to get a funnel cake."

* * *

Powdered sugar covered her hands and lips. There was even a spot on the ball of her nose. I smiled as I snapped her picture.

"Oh my god, you can't post that anywhere!" she exclaimed as she wiped her face with a wetnap.

I laughed. "Well I kinda have to. It's just _so_ attractive."

"I hate you," she replied with a smirk. I took the wetnap and wiped the spot off her nose.

When she finished her funnel cake, we got on a roller coaster. She laughed like a child in the spinning cups ride. I couldn't decide if I was having more fun on the rides or watching her have fun. After the spinning cups, I won her an enormous elephant that I ended up carrying around because it was too big for her to hold. I got hungry and we went to get corndogs. She sat at one of the wrought iron tables with the elephant while I bought the food.

"Two corndogs please," I said to the lip ring-sporting cashier. She nodded and disappeared. I pulled out my phone and checked Instagram. James had commented on the picture of Liv: **Literally the cutest thing ever!** I smiled at the picture of her. It was the kind of picture I wanted to spend the rest of my life taking. I didn't even notice the closeness of the woman behind me until she spoke.

"I hope you're not going to eat both those corndogs then go on rides," she said, smiling. She was tall, almost eye-level with me, with long red hair. She kind of looked like Abby, only older. A little redheaded boy clutched her red skirt, eyeing me suspiciously. I smiled politely.

"Actually they're not both for m—" I stopped short when I saw that Olivia had disappeared and left the elephant behind. I looked around for her but didn't see the pineapple-covered dress anywhere. I pulled out my phone and texted her. **Where'd you go?** I frowned when she didn't reply but figured she had gone to the bathroom. I waited a few minutes, distractedly chatting with the redhead as I scanned the crowd for her. I frowned when I checked my phone and found no reply. I paid for the corndogs then went to sit with the elephant, figuring that she'd come back soon enough. After ten minutes had passed, I called her. The phone rung repeatedly before going to voicemail. I hung up and called her again. Still no answer. I threw the corndogs away and left the elephant, headed for the ladies' room. I asked a woman coming out of the restroom if Liv was in there but she wasn't. I walked on, scanning everywhere for her.

I called her again but received no answer. I called again a moment later, craning my neck to look around for her. A knot formed in my stomach when I called the fifth time and got no answer. I asked people if they'd seen her but no one had.

After an hour of wandering, I found her in the petting zoo near the back of the fairgrounds. She sat serenely on a bale of hay, feeding a baby pig with a bottle. She smiled as she cooed at it like it was a baby. Rage boiled in my stomach. It was rare that she made me truly angry but I was pissed enough to hit something right then. I could feel the vein in my forehead throbbing as I handed the attendant the crumpled tickets balled up in my fist. I didn't stop to hear whatever he said to me as I stormed to where she sat.

I stared at her, not wanting to yell. There were families with small children around and I didn't want to make a scene. I swallowed the shout searing the back of my throat. She finally looked up at me when I stepped close enough to block her sunlight. She frowned at me. "What?"

I looked away for her, breathed out the fresh rage that her _What?_ incited. I snapped, "Oh nothing. Just wondering what it is about the smell of farm animals that made you take off without saying anything."

"You're just now noticing that I left?" asked then looked away from me, snorting derisively. I couldn't remember ever being so angry at her. She had scared me by disappearing that way. "That redhead must have been _really_ interesting."

I almost screamed at her but I kept my mouth shut and took a deep breath, counted to ten. She clearly hadn't been paying any attention to anything that had happened between us in the last 3 days if me talking to some random woman had made her act that way. Or maybe she was just jealous that someone else had my attention however briefly. I took another deep breath and replied, "Actually I was walking around looking for this past hour."

She blinked at me then looked away. "Leave me alone, Fitz."

"No," I replied, louder than I'd intended. She looked at me in surprise. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell's going on."

"I could demand the same from you but it wouldn't do any good. You—" she stopped and looked away from me. I clenched my jaw. "Just leave me alone."

My face burned with rage. "You don't dismiss me, Olivia!"

I hadn't been as angry when I'd found her but I was suddenly livid. I wasn't even flirting with the redhead. I hadn't done anything wrong. She was the one acting crazy. She stared at me with wide shocked eyes that quickly clouded over with incredulity. "You don't yell at me!"

"I wouldn't be yelling if you weren't acting so crazy! Tell me what's going on!" I tugged at my hair.

She ran her hand through her hair. "Nothing. I don't have anything to say to you."

"Really?" I spat. "Cause storming off just because I was talking to some random woman about corndogs and not answering the phone when I call you _five_ times while I'm wandering around looking for you everywhere makes it seem like you have a _little_ something on your mind."

"Well I don't," she replied in an icy voice. My eyes almost bulged out of my head with irritation.

"Olivia—" Suddenly she was on her feet, staring at me with flaming eyes, her hands clenched in tight fists. She looked like I felt, seeming surprisingly large for someone so tiny.

She shrieked, "Would you just say it?"

"Say what?" I shouted back. It was the first time I had ever actually yelled at her. She wasn't fazed by my shouting or my red face. The petting zoo had mostly cleared as people backed away from our argument.

"Say you love me so we can stop playing this stupid game! It's been _seven_ years, Fitz! You're not going to get over me! And I'm not going to get over you!" She stared at me, her lips trembling, her face red. She seemed so fragile. I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. I would never have guessed that she felt anything of the sort for me. Her voice became soft and small. "For fuck's sake, I'm yelling at you in the middle of a petting zoo. _Would you please just say it?_"

I was stunned as I stammered, "When…? Why… Why didn't you ever…?"

"Because you weren't ready to admit it five years ago when I finally accepted it. And if I had, we would have been in this awkward place where we would pretend it hadn't happened but we'd both know that it had. And it would get so awkward that we'd get together less and less and then you'd become some guy I used to know, and I loved you too much to risk that. So I pushed it down and waited. But you never said anything. So I made myself move on. But lately, it's all come rushing back. It never really went anywhere to be honest. I can't keep dancing around it. I love you, Fitz, and I know you love me too. So what now?"

My feet moved independently of my mind which could only focus on getting my arms around her. We kissed for an eternity, making up for so much lost time, so many missed opportunities. Her fingers wound in my hair. I held her waist tightly, lifting off her feet. I wasn't normally one for such public displays, but for her, I'd shout our love from the rooftops. I only stopped kissing her when I needed to breathe.

"I love you," I finally said. I sighed with relief. The world lifted off my shoulders. I had finally said those three little words to her. "I can't believe I just said that. I can't believe it's taken me this long to say it to you. God, I love you."

She laughed beautifully. "Say it again."

"I love you," I murmured before capturing her lips again. I swung her around in my arms the way I'd always wanted to. She giggled and I kissed her again, covering her face with kisses. She leaned her forehead down against mine, smiling like a beauty queen. I said, "We should do this forever."

She laughed. "We're probably gonna have to leave at some point. I'd imagine these people like to go home."

I bit her bottom lip. "You're such a smartass."

"But you love me."

"Yes I do." She giggled when I didn't put her down as I headed for the petting zoo's exit. I walked through the park with her in my arms, probably earning us some quizzical looks. We didn't care. It was amazing we made it safely to the exit because we couldn't stop kissing. As we walked through the parking lot, she kissed my face all over, requesting, "Say it."

I smirked at her. "You know, you're going to be hearing that from me for the rest of your life. You might want to take it easy."

She laughed. "Say it."

"I love you, Olivia."


End file.
